tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20973591184184137812017-12-09T17:37:28.380-08:00Judith AndersonAuthor of novels and short stories featuring body-positive heroines. Mystery, Suspense and Erotica. Author of the Kimber Cassidy Mysteries.Judith Andersonnoreply@blogger.comBlogger53125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-5865712012488417862017-12-08T08:35:00.000-08:002017-12-08T08:35:30.116-08:00First Chapter of Re-launch "Clever As The Devil"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rArMz__sJh8/Wiq9BNf_7yI/AAAAAAAAAcc/b99rFQak0GwGWQnLy9nNnw2tPIc7Q3SwQCLcBGAs/s1600/20171202_100924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1242" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rArMz__sJh8/Wiq9BNf_7yI/AAAAAAAAAcc/b99rFQak0GwGWQnLy9nNnw2tPIc7Q3SwQCLcBGAs/s400/20171202_100924.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang=""><br /></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang=""><br /></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang=""><br /></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang=""><br /></span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Music was wafting through the air from a relic jukebox, blissfully unaware that there was such a thing as Spotify. I watched the red neon light flash out the bar window, a beacon for the light foot traffic passing by. On the inside, the ambience was more dim and subdued, although I thought that the word ‘ambience’ was pushing it for this place. I gulped the last of my drink and signaled for the waitress. The week had either been full of rain, dark clouds threatening to rain or the vague gray nothingness that overcast days bring. It was like the rain hadn’t washed away any of the dirt in East Alton, it had just worn away all the colors.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Today was the day I dreaded every year. I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to expel the weight I felt. I saw my father, Douglas. When I was little, I would have him read Sherlock Holmes stories for me at bedtime. I had little use for the silly fairy tales my friends wanted to indulge in. Not that I had a lot of friends growing up. I was either too fat, too smart or once I had gotten some spine, </span><span lang=""><i>way</i></span><span lang=""> too sarcastic. I remembered when he would quiz me on whatever TV mystery show we were watching, in a casual race to see who could figure out who had committed the crime. And then there was the time when I was in third grade and I saw him on the living room couch, working on something.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What are you doing?” I asked, bouncing next to him on the couch.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He smiled and lowered the booklet and pencil he had in his hands. “I’m working on this cryptogram, honey.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I had to be in the middle of whatever dad was doing, so I climbed into his lap so I could see. “What’s a cryptogram?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, I’m trying to work out what the words are in these mixed up groups of letters.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Oh! Like an anagram!”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Kinda like that, but this works on a principle called a letter substitution cipher.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I had never heard of that before, so I repeated the words and he smiled. “Here, let me show you.” He said.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Dad then showed me how he would guess at certain words based on their length and placement in the phrase. “For instance, a three letter word at the beginning at a sentence is ‘The’ most of the time. So I would put those letters in those blanks and then see where else they will go based on what letter are under the blanks. Then, its just a matter of going from there and see what you can figure out.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I pointed at the booklet. “Can I do one?” I had to try it. It was a puzzle, it looked like a challenge and it was something Dad was doing.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Sure, honey.” He tore out a page from the middle of the booklet and got another pencil from his shirt pocket. I knelt on the floor and put the paper down on the coffee table and started to work.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Mom walked in a little later and saw us working with our pencils. “And what are you two doing?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">We’re working on cryptograms!” I exclaimed.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Her mother chuckled and shook her head. “Well, of course you are.” Mom was great with numbers, being an accountant, but she never did really understand me, and to be honest, I don’t remember her really trying.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">The memory dissipated with the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was the waitress and it looked like she had been there awhile. I motioned for her to get me another. I looked at my phone to check the time. I had drifted in the bar around 6 and it was 9:30 now. Just as I set it down, it vibrated. With a quick look, I saw it was Mom calling. I tapped ‘ignore’ on the phone, which was hardly satisfying. I wanted it to be the type of phone that I could pick up to answer, just so I could slam it down to hang up. I didn’t know what mom was thinking. The betrayal, not only to me, but to Dad, a detective with the East Alton Police</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. Dad and his partner, Dean Smith, had been investigating the local drug ring for awhile. He got a call after dinner letting him know that a lead he had uncovered led to the discovery of their main hideout. An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town and he and Dean went with a SWAT team to check it out.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">It was raining early the next morning and I woke up with a start. Thunder rumbled overhead as I looked out my window. His car wasn’t in the driveway. I checked my clock to see it was about three in the morning. I got out of bed and went to my parents’ bedroom. I creaked the door open to peek inside. Mom was alone in bed, sleeping. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise as I walked to the living room. It was empty and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall. I walked up to the dining room table, where Dad had left some work files. Glancing through them, I found towards the bottom, a cryptogram magazine that me and dad were working. There was a knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat as I ran to answer it, getting ready to tease Dad for forgetting his keys. But when I opened it, it wasn’t Dad. It was Dean. There were two uniforms standing behind him with their eyes downcast. Police lights were flashing red and blue everywhere and when I saw Dean’s face, I knew. Dean started talking to me and I just looked at him in shock, taking in what he saying, but it was like I was underwater and everyone else was far away. Even when Dean took me in his arms because I was crying, I still felt so alone. I was sixteen. And today was was the tenth anniversary of that day.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">When I opened my eyes, my drink was there in front of me, like magic. I swallowed my first sip, a hearty exhale coming afterwards. I was nursing a robust and healthy buzz and it was just what I needed. Well, that and something else. The hazy numbness was comforting, but it wasn’t enough. Every time I thought I had drowned out the pain, it would rise again and wrench my insides. Anger, sadness and disappointment, all rolled up in one. And from the several chewed up swizzle sticks scattered on the table, I knew there was quite a bit of frustration mixed up in there too. During the last week, I had kept to myself, turning down invitations for lunch from Bobby and even playful come-ons from Katrina and Derrick, two of my favorites I would see from time to time.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">But tonight. Something woke me up tonight. I slipped into my siren red dress with a neckline that plunged just north of obscenity charges. The red of the dress matched my hair. The dress also hugged my ample thighs, which helped my strut get its share of appreciative glances. I got in my car and turned the key. And now, I was in this bar drinking whiskey and cokes like there was going to be a shortage of ice tomorrow. Not that I needed ice to drink. Or a glass. Or anymore, a particularly good reason.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I was taking another sip, when I spied him over the rim of the glass. He was dressed as sharp as the crease in the dark slacks he wore. Black jacket, white shirt, no tie. The bartender had just put his drink in front of him. He looked around and I caught his eye. I smiled and set my drink on the table. I purposely put it down in a straight line in front of me, so his eyes would follow the glass and see the front of my dress. I love my cleavage and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I admire it often and from the look on the man’s face, he liked it as well. I have an hourglass figure with about 30 extra minutes worth of sand added to it and I love every pound. And no one will ever hate me half as much as I don’t care.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">The man scanned the bar and then his eyes drifted back to me. I leaned forward in my chair and raised my eyebrows, as if asking a question. The man smiled, grabbed his drink and walked toward my table.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Is this chair taken?” He asked, pointing to one at my table.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">It is now,” I said. “My name’s Kimber, Kimber Cassidy.” I extended my hand.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He smiled and shook my hand. “My name’s David, its a pleasure to meet you.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">The pleasure is mine.” I had taken more stock of him when he walked over. He walked with purpose, back straight. He had no wedding ring and when I could get a closer look, no tan line either. No animal hair on his clothes and no signs of excessive wear. His dress was refined, not fussy. A simple gold watch adorned his wrist and he had one ring, worn on his right index finger. I placed his age around upper-30’s, maybe early 40’s and he looked to be corporate, maybe middle to upper management. Banking, I decided.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He pulled the chair out and sat down. “Have you been here awhile?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">For a bit.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’m sorry, I didn’t even bother to ask, were you waiting for somebody?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">For you,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, smirking</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Is that so?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">On most days, I would have something clever to say, but it was late in the evening and I was about six drinks in, so I made do with “Yep”. I couldn’t help but notice the way he spoke. His pronunciation was clipped and precise, but his vowels sounds were American.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What do you do during the day, Miss Kimber?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’m in between jobs at the moment, so right now, I’m enjoying a life of leisure.” The polite euphemism for unemployed was correct. I had quit my job at the city paper and was working to get my private investigation license from the state. In the meantime, the jobs hadn’t exactly been rolling in. But I had saved a good amount of my salary while I was employed and was doing okay for now. “And you?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’m an executive in a banking firm and I just got a promotion.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I high-fived myself in my head. “Congratulations, so you’re out celebrating?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I am.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Alone?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David looked down. “I was working late today, just now got out and most everybody else had already left.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">But my name’s David,” he said, smiling.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">For this evening’s performance, you will be played by a man named Jack.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I think I’ll stick with David.” He said, taking a sip of his drink.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Okay David, tell me something fun about yourself and prove me wrong.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He thought for awhile. “My fingers are double jointed?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Lame.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I think me and a cousin of mine share a birthday?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Next, you’ll tell me the highlight of your life was when you had the spotlight in Bankers’ Monthly five years back.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I had forgotten about that!”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I laughed and shook my head. David smiled back. After some thought, he said, “Okay, the Bible says, Adam AND Eve, so I date both,” he said and shrugged, taking a drink.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I raised her eyebrows. “So the banker is bi.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David nodded, smiling.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I wouldn’t have guessed that. My radar must be off this evening.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Really?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’m pretty good at observation. I’ve noticed your speech, the way you pronounce things.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He smiled.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’d say either you’re not from here or you are and you moved to another part of the country, perhaps up east. Or maybe even out of the country, maybe the UK.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’m impressed, hun,” he said, taking a drink, “I was born here in East Alton, but when I was 3, the company my father worked for transferred him to England. We moved there and that’s where I went to school, although most of the time, I was in the LD classrooms.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">You have a learning disability?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">That’s what they thought. I tested out when I got into what they call secondary education over there.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">You were around 11 when you got out?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He nodded. “I did pretty well after that and was about to go to uni there, but then my dad got transferred back, so ended up going to college here.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">They thought I had a learning disability,” I said. “They put me in LD classes, but after a couple of years, they realized, I was just lazy and hated doing homework.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David chuckled. “After your astute observation, I would have to say, you’re impressive.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I lifted my drink. “I’m good.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David pointed to a man sitting at the bar. “Tell me about him.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I took a sip and glanced at the man David was pointing at. “He was here when I arrived and has been nursing several drinks. He’s putting them away at a good clip, and he’s three drinks on me, so I’m sure he’s on his way to oblivion if he keeps this up.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Plus, who knows how many he had before you arrived.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I nodded. “He’s in his fifties and he used to be married.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Used to be?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">He piqued my interest when I first got here and sat down, so I went up the bar next to him to refresh my drink and took a glance. His fingers are swollen and thick and on his left ring finger is a deep impression of where a ring used to be.” What I didn’t say is the reason he got my attention was his rate of drinking and his manner of movement, which told me he was pretty wasted as it was. I got the bartender’s attention and gave him a twenty to get the guy a cab when it came time to eighty-six him.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Perhaps recently divorced.” David suggested.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Or widowed. He’s had that suit for quite awhile, both the style and pilling on the fabric say so. From the style of haircut, I’d say he’s been going to the same barber for years. He wears a wrist watch, he has horn rimmed glasses, if he has a cell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were a flip phone.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David nodded.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Overall, he appears to be a man resistant to change. He longs for the good old days and is full of nostalgia for how things used to be.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Perhaps he is widowed. That would explain a lot of what you said.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I shrugged. “It would. It’s a matter of probabilities.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David thought a bit, while he stared at his drink. He then looked back at me, smiling. “You’re just a regular Sherlock Holmes.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I smiled and straightened my back. “With an impressive rack to boot.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">There are many things to appreciate about you, honey.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I smirked and leaned over to him. It served dual purposes, one, to give him a good view. Two, to whisper in his ear certain things that anyone else would think twice to whisper in a man’s ear.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David took a good peek, listened to what I had to say and chuckled. “Is it okay if I finish my drink first?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I shrugged again. “It’s whatever. If you’re thirsty, I think I can take care of that too.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">David downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. “You tell me where we’re going, honey. Lead the way.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">===</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I went to the bar to get blitzed, so I didn’t stray too far from home. Now that I had made a catch, it made sense to just take the short trip back to my duplex and have him follow me. Once we were inside, there wasn’t a lot of small talk. We both knew what the other wanted. Enveloped in a tight embrace, he nibbled on my lips and when he gave my bottom lip a tender bite, I raked my fingernails down his back. He moaned in my mouth and made quick work of unzipping my dress. I did the same with his pants and pretty soon, most of the important pieces of clothing were on the floor.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Most of what followed in my bedroom was the kind of passionate sloppiness that comes from alcohol and deep seated need. His kisses found my favorite spots, behind my ear, down my neck, while his fingers explored my body. I loved the weight of his body on top of me and how he felt inside me. My hands clutched his back as I released all my tension. The combination of my buzz and my long delayed release sent me flying for a bit and my eyes took awhile to come back to focus. He plopped down beside me, laying on his back.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Raising my arms above my head, I stretched the kind of stretch that takes it all out of you, leaving you feeling drained, relaxed and satisfied at the same time. I was still on my dreamy orgasm high when I closed my eyes. And they stayed that way till the phone and the morning sunlight opened them the next morning.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">===</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I fumbled for my phone, the ringing disrupting my dreams. I looked at the display and saw that it was Dean.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Hello? Dean?” I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my head.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Hey Sparky. I know its a little early, but I needed to give you a heads up. A contact I have at the station alerted me that the police are going to be calling you soon.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I squinted my eyes. “What for?” I looked back on my bed. David wasn’t there. I walked into the living room and saw that his clothes were gone and no note. Not that I was expecting one.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Where were you last night?” Dean asked.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">On a date.” I walked to the bedroom to grab my robe.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Who with?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What? Why?” I put my robe on and then rubbed my forehead, trying to piece together why the police would be interested.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What was his or her name?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">David.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">David Andrews?” Dean asked.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I shrugged. “Sure, he looked like an Andrews.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Dammit Sparky, this is serious.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Can you tell me what’s going on, please?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">A man named Calvin Dunbar was found dead this morning, an apparent suicide. One of his work associates was a David Andrews, who used you as an alibi for his whereabouts last night.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I took the phone from my ear and looked toward the ceiling. Are you fucking kidding me? I just wanted to get shitfaced, ending up getting lucky and now I’m involved in an investiga--</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I put the phone back up to my ear. “You said it was a suicide. Why are the police investigating it?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I said apparent suicide. I need to get off the phone, they’ll be calling you any minute. Get your facts straight and then call me back when they’re finished with you.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I hung up and sighed. Dammit, I should have known better. The minute I reached for that dress last night before going out, I should have just slapped my hand, got drunk at home and called one of my favorites over. Or at least, rubbed one out in the shower. I shook my head. Then the phone rang.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Hello?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Hello, is a,” the caller paused while he shuffled papers, “Kimber Cassidy there?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">This is Kimber.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Good morning Miss Cassidy, this is Lou Matthews, detective with the East Alton Police. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Sure.” I knew better than to be evasive. Dad taught me to be open with them, but only answer what they ask, never volunteer information. I sat down at the dining table. “Can I ask what this is about?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">We’re doing some preliminary checking about something that happened last night. Does the name Calvin Dunbar ring a bell?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">No, should it?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">He ignored the question and asked, “Where were you last night?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">From about 6:30 till around 10:30, I was at the Green Derby.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">There was the sound of scribbled notes. “And then after that?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I was at home with my date.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What was the date’s name?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I sighed. “All I know is David, I didn’t get his last name.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">More note scribbling. “Did he stay the whole night?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I thought back. “The last time I looked at the clock, it was 12:30 and he was still here. When I woke up this morning, he was gone.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">When did you wake up?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">About fifteen minutes ago.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">You didn’t get your </span><span lang=""><i>date’s</i></span><span lang="">last name?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I squinted at the insinuation and picked up a pencil from the table. “No, I didn’t.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I see.” He cleared his throat and made more hen scratches. “Did Dunbar’s name come up?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">No.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">And you were drinking, correct?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yes.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">How much? It sounds like your judgement may have been impaired, did you black out?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I rolled my eyes andI deflected the question. “I can give you a physical description.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Sure,tell me what you can remember.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Drumming the eraser on the table, I said, “He was about my height, five ten, and a hundred and ninety pounds. Brown hair, blue eyes, clean shaven. His nails looked manicured and overall he had a neat, well-kept appearance. He had black shoes, shined, dark slacks and jacket, white shirt and no tie. He said his name was David and that he worked at a banking firm.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, that sounds like our guy.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Anything else?” I asked, tossing the pencil on the table.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">One more thing.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yes?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Aren’t you Douglas Cassidy’s kid?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I blinked. What kind a hell question was that? “Yes,” I answered, “my dad was Douglas Cassidy.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Wow,” he replied.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Wow?’</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, its just that I remember when I just made detective, your dad and Dean Smith were the team to beat. Everyone on the force looked up to them. I remember your dad always bragging on you. Either it was some cryptogram you had solved, or some how you had figured out the end of the Holmes story he was reading you. Later on, when you were a teenager, sometimes he’d say how some observation you had made helped him with a break in a case.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I cleared my throat, just wanting the call to be over.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, guess he’d be pretty proud of you now, huh? Thanks Miss Cassidy, if I need anything else, I’ll get ahold of you.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">My eyes narrowed as I ended the call and slammed the phone down on the table.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">The phone rang again and I snatched it off the table. “What?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Sparky? This is Dean.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Hey.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">How did it go? Who talked to you?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Lou Matthews.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Crap.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yeah, tell me about it. Besides being a first class shmuck, what else can you tell me about him?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, I remember when he first made detective, he had a female partner but, she didn’t last long.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Let me guess, he was rude, ignorant, condescending, patronizing and sexist.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yeah, sounds about right.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I shook my head and reached for the bottle of whiskey, but my pounding headache made me think twice about it. I grabbed the tea kettle instead and poured some water in it. “He went on about how my dad would brag on me and boy, times have changed, now that you’re drunk and can’t remember the last name of your ‘date’ last night, if you even knew it in the first place.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Did you?” Dean asked.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">That’s not the point, it’s none of his goddamn business! Mr. Matthews can suck my dick.” I slammed the kettle down on the oven burner, sloshing a little water from the spout. “Fucker,” I said under my breath. I flipped the whistler closed on the spout and turned the burner up.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Well, you gotta remember, after your father died, you went through a pretty rough period and it was on full display. I can’t tell you how many times I came to see you in holding and hear what kinda scrape you had gotten yourself into.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Died, I thought, that’s nice. Dad was killed, in the line of duty. You should know Dean, you were there. I stopped what I was doing and realized I had been pacing the kitchen. I was in pain and pissed. Pissed at Lou, pissed at David whathisface, but mostly pissed at myself. Last night was stupid all the way around. I took some deep breaths to steady my hands and got a mug off the cabinet shelf. “I remember that. I guess I’m only as good as my last fuck up?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Dean chuckled. “Something like that. And that goes for everybody else.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Fan-fucking-tastic.” I mumbled, as the kettle started to whistle. I grabbed a teabag and tossed it in the mug. I turned the burner off, grabbed the kettle and poured some water into my mug, leaving some space to add milk after it was done steeping.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Sounds like you’re making yourself some tea?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yeah.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">You’re hungover, got a headache.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Right you are, detective.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What happened last night anyway? I mean, that’s not like you.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I sighed. He was right. “I don’t know. I was restless, I guess. And horny.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Why didn’t you call one of your friends over?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Yeah, why didn’t I do that? “I don’t know.” I rubbed my head and added, “You know what yesterday was, right?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I remember hun, I know its still rough for you, its rough for everybody.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I snorted and thought of mom. Yeah, most everybody. I went to the fridge to get the milk. “What about this case? What’s up? What do you know?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">You first. Tell me everything you know about him.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">He’s circumcised,” I said, smirking. I stirred some milk in my tea and then took a sip.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">Dean let out a breath. “Thanks for remembering that. Anything else?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I went over all that I observed about him, including correctly intuiting that he was a banker. “He said he was out celebrating, although he was alone. I thought that was off.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">What was he celebrating?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">He said he had just gotten promoted.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Wait a minute,” I heard shuffling papers as Dean looked over his notes, “he said he got a promotion?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Yeah, he mentioned he was working late, so that’s why he was by himself and that didn’t feel right to me. It seemed more like he was avoiding something or just trying to forget.” It was then I realized why we had clicked. They were both there last night for the same reason.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I got news for ya. He didn’t get promoted, he was passed over.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Passed over?” I began to take a sip of my tea, but suddenly put the mug back down, “For fuck’s sake.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I’ll give you three guesses who got it instead and the first two don’t count.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Calvin Dunbar.” I rubbed my forehead. It was still pounding. If he had lied about the promotion, what else did he lie about? “How did he die?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">There was no sign of struggle and no wounds on the body. He was found by his wife this morning, sitting at the dining room table, slumped over. There was a teacup nearby that was about empty.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">They’re going with poisoning?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">For right now. They took the teacup, what was left in it and of course, the toxicology reports from the autopsy will tell us more.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Statistically speaking, men are more prone to commit suicide by firearms or hanging, women are more likely to use poison.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Plus there was no note. Not that there’s a law saying you have to leave a suicide note before you off yourself, but…” Dean trailed off.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">When are they putting time of death?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Early morning, around two.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Andrews didn’t do himself any favors using me as an alibi. I told Matthews the last time I looked at a clock, it said 12:30 and then didn’t wake back up til morning and he was gone.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">And you have no recollection as to when he might have left?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I put my tea down again and tried to think. “No, to be honest, I passed out. I don’t remember.” I heard Dean write more down in his notes and it occurred to me to do the same. I shook my head, some private investigator I was. I grabbed my notebook and pen out of my purse. “They’re going with a murder investigation because of the method and there was no note?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Actually, the wife, Linda Dunbar is pushing the story that its murder.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I made a face. “She didn’t know that would make her a prime suspect?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I don’t know whether she knew that or not, but it doesn’t much matter, her alibi’s pretty airtight. She’s been in Dallas for the past few days on business and had just gotten back this morning.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I took some more notes and then stopped. “Did Dunbar have a life insurance policy?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I thought of that too. He probably did, I’m sure they’re checking up on that.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I put that on my to-do list as well. “Is there anything else I should know?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Besides, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">And what exactly does that keep me from doing?”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Not a hell of a whole lot.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">That’s what I thought,” I giggled.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">Just be careful Sparky.”</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“<span lang="">I will, Dean, I promise.”</span></div><br /><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="">I ended the call and put the phone down. As I sipped my tea, I thought about the possibilities. If someone had murdered Dunbar, the strongest suspect would be David, given he had a possible motive. The wife was ruled out due to her alibi, but something didn’t feel right about that. Poison was a funny thing. You had to be there to fire a gun and stab a knife, but poison was different. The tea was starting to soothe my headache and I started to come up with a plan of attack. Seeing as David had been such a nice guy to involve me, I eagerly took the invitation to dig in a little more.</span></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-14893137584000661122017-08-19T12:17:00.003-07:002017-08-19T12:21:38.462-07:00Just Desserts - short story<h2 style="text-align: center;"></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Just Desserts</span></h2><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp;It was after the fifth time I told my son to clean up his room and the clear indication that it wasn't going to happen that I set on the unenviable task of doing it myself. With only the sole protection of yellow rubber dish-washing gloves to keep me alive, I told my wife I was going in.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;">&nbsp; </span>“Better you than me,” she encouraged and pushed me in the general direction. As I entered the room, I wondered if there was ever a smell as dank as the teenage male. I also wondered if I had smelled this bad and what gas masks my parents used to deal with it.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After I had excavated several dirty dinner plates turned science experiments from the area, I came upon a small wadded up white sack, the kind you would get from a bakery. I blinked as I remembered a time long ago, toward the end of elementary school. It involved me, a girl and a brownie. A frozen brownie.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">***</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I guess it was while Tommy Whitzberger was playing his rendition of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” on the accordion that I found out DeeAnn Smith liked me. I had just gotten off the stage where I’d performed my magic act for the 6th grade talent show at our elementary school. Getting used to the dark of the auditorium, I finally found a seat in the audience.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs. McIntyre, my homeroom teacher, was emcee. She came on stage, clapping and said, “That was ‘The Great Howard’ and his wonderful magic act. Good job, Howard.” She then began the task of building up the anticipation in the audience for accordion rock wizardry.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I happened to sit next to Misty Oppenheimer, the school blabbermouth and one of DeeAnn’s friends. I really wasn't part of the “in crowd”, so didn't trade much on the gossip circuit. So I was surprised when she whispered in my ear. She told me that DeeAnn told her that she thought I was kinda cute. She went on breathlessly that she wasn't supposed to tell anybody, especially me. This is, of course, the one thing you never tell Misty Oppenheimer, but I guess DeeAnn hadn’t learned that at the time.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When I heard this I felt dizzy. My face flushed and my vision blurred. After the talent show, I went to one of the school restrooms and looked in the mirror to check myself. I was just sure I had come down with something. A disease that flares up whenever someone tells you you’re cute and you immediately start to turn ugly. A few years later, I would learn there is such a disease.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It’s called puberty.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The thought of a girl being remotely attracted to me really didn’t occur to me at all. I was simultaneously thrilled and terrified. I was happy because as far I as knew, this was the first time anyone had expressed an interest in me. It also terrified me because I did not want to screw this up. And if my life up to that point was any indication, there was a very good chance of that happening. I really don’t think the words ‘paralyzed with fear’ would be too far from what I was feeling. After all, I had been on this planet for almost 12 years now and this was my first. Who knows when the next one was going to come around.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When DeeAnn stopped by my house after school to again tell me how much she really enjoyed the magic show, the gray brain cells that processed this sort of thing came alive for the first time and wondered what the hell was going on. Immediately, they clumsily lurched into action. The first thought was realizing that sometimes DeeAnn came by my house on her way home from school. Then, these limp barely-used ganglia and neurons thought it would be a good idea to get her something. I went to the corner market. Flowers were too expensive on my lunch money budget and cards were too schmaltzy for my preteen idea of romance. A small fifteen-watt light bulb went off above my head when I thought of the bakery. I scanned the displays and settled on a brownie. To make it extra special, I had her name written on it with pink frosting. I have no idea why I thought this was significant. Like she was going to look at the brownie I gave her and wonder, “But is this for me? I don’t know, it doesn’t have my name on it.”</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>All things considered, I was a thoughtful, sweet, awkward, stuttering, sweating bucket of quivering nerves. What could possibly go wrong?</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Since she passed by my house infrequently, I put the brownie in the freezer, so that it wouldn’t go bad. Weeks went by as my after-school-vigil-of-looking-for-DeeAnn droned on. I was getting tired, my eyes were getting sore and my brownie was getting frostbite. Then one day, there she was.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I ran to the fridge, grabbed the brownie, sped to the front door and yelled, “DeeAnn!” She stopped, turned around and smiled. And then everything moved in slow motion.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I wondered if she still liked me. I wondered if this had all been a joke. I wondered if perhaps she was allergic to brownies. I wondered if she was on a diet and if she was going to be offended and how dare I get her a dessert. All these fearful ‘what-if’ scenarios went through my head, and I panicked.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And in that panicked moment of brain vapor lock, I hurled a dense completely frozen brownie at the only girl who had, up to that time, expressed an interest in me and slammed the door.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Because, that makes sense.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I put my head in my hands. How could I be so stupid? What did I just do? She is probably not enjoying her brownie and basking in the knowledge of what a fine and sweet young man I am. She’s probably suffering a concussion, laying unconscious on my lawn, bleeding out as her friend screams with horror about the maniac who just beaned her schoolmate with a frozen dessert.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>All of this was interrupted by a knock on the door. Was it DeeAnn? Was it her friend? Was it the police? I slowly opened the door.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It was DeeAnn.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I inexplicably feigned surprise (“Ohh, DeeAnn. What are you doing here?”). DeeAnn wanted to thank me for the gift as she ate (okay, sucked on) her frozen brownie. I said, no problem.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And that was it. That’s as far as it went. The next year was junior high, which had its own share of drama, hellish &nbsp;anxiety concerning the other gender and fleeting moments of fun. And DeeAnn? She went the way of every other girl who’s had refrigerated rock-hard confections thrown at them.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Therapy.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then Tommy Whitzberger. How was I to know she had a thing for accordion players?</span>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-43168630853450866542017-04-22T07:44:00.001-07:002017-04-22T07:45:29.925-07:00The Ballad of Keith and Judith Anderson<p dir="ltr"></p><p dir="ltr">&nbsp;&nbsp; In the Fall of 2014, I had about three short stories I'd written and I texted a published author and good friend of mine if there was a market for BDSM Erotica Short Stories. One thing led to another and I ended <u>up</u> self publishing "Pretty When You Cry", a collection of those short stories with a few others, under the pen name "Keith Anderson" in February 2015. I chose "Keith" because I had been called that half the time whenever anyone couldn't remember my name and Anderson, was the last name of a childhood friend, one of my favorite musicians (Laurie Anderson) and was fairly common like "Smith" which was the last name of the pen name of my friend, the published author.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp; Shortly after publishing, my author friend said, put together a blurb, your buy links and the front cover image and post it to few book groups on FB.&nbsp; Keep that up for awhile, then put a pin a twenty to its lapel, wish it luck as you send it off into the world and start work on your next book. Which I did, more or less. "Pretty When You Cry" by Keith Anderson got some attention and made some good sales and I got an offer from someone to be my PA and assemble a street team, which I took them up on. And that helped sales even more. And also attracted the attention of Blushing Books, which has been publishing spanking and BDSM fiction since the 90's on the Interwebs.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp; Ever since FSOG, they had been inundated by submissions by people and they were abysmal. Seeing as how I was in the lifestyle, they were interested if I were writing a novel. I was and when I was done I send it to them in the fall of 2015. Lo and behold, they wanted to publish it. But there was a problem.<br>&nbsp; They always had issues with romances and their readership if it was under a male pen name. The sales were always flat and were never received well. So, it would be a condition in my contract, that I would publish my novel (original title - "Kinky in Flatland", since renamed "Nadja's Choice") under a feminine pen name. For me, this was a simple business decision. I wrote under one fake name, I'll just write under another fake name, big deal. And so, "Nadja's Choice" was published under the pen name "Judith Anderson" in the beginning of 2016.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp; And I'm certainly not the first to be asked this. Harold Lowry wrote romance novels involving country girls and rugged cowboys under the pen name Leigh Greenwood for over twenty five years. Thomas Elmer Huff was a best selling author of twenty three gothic romance novels under the names Edwina Marlow, Beatrice Parker, Katherine St. Clair and Jennifer Wilde. Bill Spence is a grandfather, father of four and WW II vet who published twenty two romance novels as Jessica Blair. Publishers asked him that he assume a female name in order to better the reception of his novels, which Bill didn't mind at all.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp; I'm a slow writer and I wanted to build a list of credits, not split up my books between two names, so I re-published "Pretty When You Cry" under "Judith Anderson". I've since published two novels "Nadja's Choice" and "Smart As A Whip" with Blushing Books and a short story "Tongue in Geek" in "The First Annual Geeky Kink Anthology" with Riverdale Avenue Books under the pen name "Judith Anderson". "They Say Its Your Birthday" was published in "Confessions of a Spanking Author" by Blushing Books under "Keith Anderson".<br>&nbsp;&nbsp; Now hopefully, I hope things are clear as mud. There are quite a number of people among the book groups here on FB who knew me as "Keith Anderson" and some who know me only as "Judith Anderson". I realize there was some confusion, so hopefully, this clears the air. Or not.</p>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-87134730063307981122017-01-03T09:17:00.001-08:002017-01-03T09:17:45.800-08:00Book Spotlight : Jake's Redemption by Jean Kelso<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S2oaMykdtYM/WGvSvHU_rPI/AAAAAAAAAZA/HrI0LPpsnw4e4tVq2pw54skxSXM7Gj_xwCLcB/s1600/13323601_10154070766164845_7177989704518511464_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S2oaMykdtYM/WGvSvHU_rPI/AAAAAAAAAZA/HrI0LPpsnw4e4tVq2pw54skxSXM7Gj_xwCLcB/s320/13323601_10154070766164845_7177989704518511464_o.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><br /><br />Having grown up in a small town as the youngest of four girls, Jean Kelso learned a lot about life. And one of her dreams was to write. In school, she excelled in short stories and silly poems that her teachers loved and she also came to realize that she loved helping people.<br /><br />She went to college, became a nurse and met her dream man. They soon married and had kids. Her full-time nursing career pushed her writing to the side, but then fate intervened. Jean was diagnosed with cancer. While being laid up in treatment, her passion for writing returned and in 2014 self-published her first novel.<br /><br />Thankfully now in remission, she continues to write novels and delight her readers with well-written stories full of romance and engaging characters.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmanYd20s84/WGvY40lT2oI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/RBmvDKpTN5EMYfzJMyDWdedsgZp64Ll6QCLcB/s1600/AdobeStock_81801309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZmanYd20s84/WGvY40lT2oI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/RBmvDKpTN5EMYfzJMyDWdedsgZp64Ll6QCLcB/s400/AdobeStock_81801309.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><br /><br />In the spotlight today, is her newest release, "Jake's Redemption".&nbsp;At the age of twenty-eight Jake had seen and done it all, enjoyed a few of the perks, but mostly regretted every experience. He became a man he had sworn he would never become–an enforcer, just like his father. His father had pulled all the strings, and had all the control.<br /><br />Sex, drugs, and fighting. Stealing, lying and cheating. That wasn’t the life he wanted. He wanted better. Then, betrayal from family turns his life upside down and the only source of scenery he has for the next seven years is from behind bars.<br /><br />Now on parole, Jake Green wants to start over. New. Fresh. He wants to learn from his mistakes and fix his broken past, especially with his family. He will do anything to have it all.<br /><br />Until he sees Devon–the one woman who sees Jake, the real man inside.<br /><br />With Jake’s screwed up past, and a family so torn apart, can he and Devon work through everything together? Is Devon the angel he seeks, who can give him the redemption he craves and deserves? <br /><br /><b>Excerpt:</b><br /><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I’ve had seven years of thinking about my life, about the mistakes I’ve made. I have tattoos and scars to prove the errors of my ways. The only thinking I need to do now is to figure out how to make up for those wrongs. To make right to all those who deserve the best. The top of the list I suppose should be me. I need to do what is right for myself. To fix what was done wrong to me. I need to salvage my identity and make it, to make me who I really want to be. And that isn’t who I used to be. Too many years I did wrong. I can’t do wrong anymore. ~ Jake</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Buy Jake's Redemption at these following stores!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Amazon US – <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F2ajD9ed&amp;h=6AQGGLQZc">http://amzn.to/2ajD9ed</a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Amazon CA- <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F2a08gyZ&amp;h=3AQEMcBGl">http://amzn.to/2a08gyZ</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Amazon UK- <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F29T90kO&amp;h=gAQFfCctu">http://amzn.to/29T90kO</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">B&amp;N – <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbit.ly%2F2a6lpVM&amp;h=AAQEr3SEV">http://bit.ly/2a6lpVM</a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">iTunes – <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fapple.co%2F29VVqAT&amp;h=lAQH_cAlt">http://apple.co/29VVqAT</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Kobo - <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbit.ly%2F2a2cKCB&amp;h=6AQGGLQZc">http://bit.ly/2a2cKCB</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S2oaMykdtYM/WGvSvHU_rPI/AAAAAAAAAZI/SCk7ALRI-aU_J4Gk7YpLlcuSa0waLgJeACEw/s1600/13323601_10154070766164845_7177989704518511464_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S2oaMykdtYM/WGvSvHU_rPI/AAAAAAAAAZI/SCk7ALRI-aU_J4Gk7YpLlcuSa0waLgJeACEw/s400/13323601_10154070766164845_7177989704518511464_o.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-14825411138339072072016-12-22T09:47:00.000-08:002016-12-22T09:47:32.912-08:00Free Story from "Pretty When You Cry" Paperback now on sale for only $9.99!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tyREoB9hpKs/WFwQA47Xb7I/AAAAAAAAAYY/WOcJsv0MY7wSyyHtzwQvupJx_qJOOck4ACLcB/s1600/13950812_1571414139830497_499290170_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tyREoB9hpKs/WFwQA47Xb7I/AAAAAAAAAYY/WOcJsv0MY7wSyyHtzwQvupJx_qJOOck4ACLcB/s400/13950812_1571414139830497_499290170_o.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp;Here it is! &nbsp;The free story I promised from the Revised and Expanded Edition of "Pretty When You Cry"! The original edition which only had 7 stories in it was a finalist for Best Book of the Year (2016) by the BDSM Writers Con.<br /><br />&nbsp; &nbsp;The new Revised and Expanded edition has TEN stories, plus prefaces that explain background details about every story that's included! &nbsp;AND the paperback edition of this release is now on SALE for ONLY $9.99! And if you want your paperback signed, it'll be as easy as sending it to me and then I will sign, send it back to you at no additional cost!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Buy your copy now&nbsp;<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Pretty-When-You-Cry-Expanded/dp/1537112376/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=">HERE (US)</a>&nbsp;or&nbsp;<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Pretty-When-You-Cry-Expanded/dp/1537112376/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=">HERE (UK)</a>&nbsp;!</span></div><br />And now for the FREE story from this release!<br /><br />==================================<br /><br /><br /><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in;">THE GAME</div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-size: small;"><i>I wrote this back in 2007 and it was my first piece of erotica. I was in between relationships and had started working as a desktop tech at an aviation plant. There was a workfloor where they did maintenance on aircraft engines, but also professional business floors where there was nothing but rows and rows of cubicles. My mind started wandering one slow day and this story came about. It was also posted up on my FL account back in 2009.”</i></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 0.14in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 0.14in; text-indent: 1in;"><br /><br /></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">After a few key slips and a computer crash, I finally got the spreadsheet for the Simpson account finished and could proudly say I was midway through the pile of crap on my desk. I slumped in my chair. It was late and I was the only one left in the cube farm on the third floor. At this rate, I’d never get finished with all of it today, but I had told my supervisor I would finish these spreadsheets before I went home. Me and my big fucking mouth.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I prided myself on being a fairly good worker. I paid attention to details and I wasn’t some ‘Barbie’ who put white-out on her computer screen. But I wasn’t above being distracted once in a while and one such distraction was working his way through the cubes tonight.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">To say that he had matinee movie star looks, a chiseled chin, wavy coal black hair, ocean-blue eyes, broad shoulders, a massive chest and everything else in proportion would be like a horrible cliche in some vapid porn story. Besides, he wasn’t. He was tall, but bald, like he shaved it. The ocean-blue eyes were there, but they were behind wire-frame glasses. He certainly wasn’t muscle-bound, but he was trim and knew how to carry himself, which to be honest, seemed to be half the battle with most men. He didn’t walk around like a human question mark but more like an exclamation point, with his shoulders back and chest out. No dazzling smile, but definitely a cute grin with dimples that made my toes curl. He didn’t come out of the gate, charging a girl with gallons of testosterone, but sidled up next to me and talked softly. His voice was deep, rich and smooth. And his dimples, did I mention his dimples?</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I remember when we first met. The network jack panel in my cube cracked when I moved a file cabinet against it and it needed replacing. Casey came up from the facilities office to take a look.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I'm gonna need to get under your desk to inspect the damage.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Oh, do I need to get out of your way?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, they usually do, something about me being under their desks with their knee hemline skirts makes them nervous for some reason.” Cue his dazzling smile.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Ah, I see,” I nodded, “and what if I buck the trend?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Ooo, a rebel, I love it.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I giggled. “Well, seeing as I'm surrounded by gossips, I guess I'll move. We don't need people talking.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Speak for yourself, I always love giving people something to talk about.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well then, you are someone I need to keep an eye on.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Moving to duck under my desk, he said “Please do.” Cue more dimples and me melting as he got on his hands and knees to look under my desk and I could glance at that lovely cute butt of his.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Ever since then, whenever he was on the floor doing something, he would come by and flash those dimples and we would chat. He was the maintenance-person-jack-of-all-trades-sort, and I had a feeling he was overqualified for his job. But he seemed to enjoy where he was in life and I never questioned him about it. The cubes here were right up next to each other, so flirting and not have everyone talking took a bit of finesse, but we both seemed to be up to the challenge.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">He was getting close to my cube and I was about to say hey, when the phone rang. Crap! I turned on my headset to take the call.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“McIntyre?” From that one word, I could tell the voice on the other end belonged to Mr. Wesson, the head of my department.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, sir?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Do you know where the information on the staff meeting this morning is?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, Mr. Wesson, I can email that to you right now.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, that’s fine, but I was wanting to know…”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Sir, it's on its way now to you. I included the minutes, those in attendance and the plan for the next meeting.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Okay, thank you, McIntyre, I’ll look it over.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I always prided myself with ending phone calls quickly. They can end up being a quagmire of wasted time and that takes me away from actually working, or at least doing what I want to do most, like talk to a certain someone.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I stood up and looked around, but he was gone. Crap, I thought to myself, exercised my ninja phone skills for nothing. I sat down, dejected and sighed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Boo.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I gave a jump and whirled around in my chair. He was standing behind me with that shit-eating grin on his face and those dimples.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You about gave me a heart attack, Casey.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">He gave a quick smile and sat down on my desk. “I’m sorry hon, but it would’ve been okay, I am certified in CPR.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Oh, that wouldn’t stand for ‘Crappy Pickup Routine’, would it?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Casey grabbed his chest in mock pain. “Oh! That hurt, baby. The thrill is gone, huh?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I shook my head, giggling. “Hardly, it's just I’m still here and I don’t want to be. But I need to get this paperwork finished, so I’m stuck here. And if I keep getting phone calls like the one I just had, I’m never gonna get finished.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well alright,” he said, as he grabbed the very ineffective stress ball off my desk and started tossing it in the air. “If that’s the case, then why don’t we play a game?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“A game?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yep, one I know you’ll enjoy.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Okay,” I said, pushing my keyboard drawer in and sitting back in my chair. “What are the rules, Mr. Hoyle?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, it starts with you sitting at your desk working with your spreadsheets--“</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Sounds incredibly boring.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“And I’ll sit under your desk.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I blinked.“Okay, sounds slightly less boring.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“But I’m not doing anything.“</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Okay, now I’m back to being incredibly bored--“</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Until the phone rings, then I start making things interesting.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“How interesting?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“VERY interesting.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, okay, I just use my ever-reliable ninja phone skills, get off the phone and enjoy the--“</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Oh no no,” he interrupted, shaking his head, “when the phone calls ends, so do I.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">My jaw dropped. “Well, that’s just evil.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I know. That’s what makes it fun,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I don’t know.” I started, but then he put down the stress ball, swung his legs over the desk and ducked underneath. I had to stifle a giggle at the absurd suddenness. I took a quick glance around to make sure we were the only ones there.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Hey, I didn’t say I was going to do this,” I weakly protested, “besides just watch, with my luck I won’t get another call for the rest of the--”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">And then the phone rang.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">It rang again and again.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">A muffled voice came from under the desk. “Umm, are you gonna get that?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I took a deep breath and turned on my headset.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Hello, McIntyre?”, said the voice on the other end.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Oh god, it was Mr. Wesson again.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">At first, Casey's fingers slowly slid up from my ankles to my calves and then to my thighs, his hands spreading my legs, they were firm but gentle and slow. I didn’t feel like I was being manhandled and I could feel my skirt slowly inch up my thighs as my legs separated. I had to take a deep breath as I felt myself start to get wet from his gentle attention. His fingertips softly tickled around my inner thighs like feathers. I had to keep from squirming too much so it wouldn't affect my speaking tone.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I just wanted to go over some of the figures in the second spreadsheet for the Amalgamated account,” Mr. Wesson said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, sir.” I tried to concentrate on bringing up the appropriate files as his fingers traced back down my legs to my calves, gently massaging, tickling around my ankles. I thought this might not be <span style="font-size: small;"><i>too</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span>bad to maintain, but then he did it. He kissed me on the inside of my leg, just above the knee.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Now it seems like the figures for the third quarter are a little wonky, I want to make sure the equations are set right.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I could feel his mouth gently kissing my skin, his breath warming my thigh and his goatee tickling my skin as his lips slowly nibbled their way up my leg, which helplessly started to shiver. “Um yes sir, well, I did double check those macros.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Casey’s fingers gently ran up my right leg, his fingertips tickling their way to my knee and then further past. It was very hard to keep from squirming. I couldn’t help scooting my butt down to the edge of my chair to give him easy access. I knew I was gonna pay for it and honestly, I really didn't care.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">In addition to trying to keep an ear out for the phone conversation, I wondered which would reach my pussy first, his lips or his fingers. I about lost it when I felt him slide the damp cotton of my panties aside and realized it was going to be a tie. His tongue licked up my wet lips and took its time licking around my clit while his fingers teased around my wet folds and easily slid in. Two, I was guessing, very slowly making their way into me, deeper as his tongue settled on licking my clit from side to side. I arched in my chair slightly, bearing down on the sensations and pressing my pussy against his tongue. My free hand balled into a fist, trying to maintain composure on the phone.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, okay, are we sure we’re calculating the correct interest rate?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">His fingers inside me started into a rhythm, sliding in and out of me, gently moving deeper inside as I fumbled around with my mouse, trying to focus my eyes on my monitor. “Yes, Mr. Wesson, we are,” I said, struggling to keep my breathing in check.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I lurched against my desk quickly and then settled back, my chest heaving when I felt Casey arch his fingers, twisting them gently as they went in and out, his knuckles rubbing against my g-spot. His tongue was going to town on my clit, alternating between licking it up and down, side to side or teasing around it. Every so often he would gently suckle it into his mouth, making me fight the need to pound my balled fist into the desk.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I startled myself a bit when I realized I was rocking in my chair with no clear memory of when I started doing that. The twisty in-and-out of his fingers--thrusting harder now, coupled with his very hungry mouth--were just about to complete their mission. Letting my head fall back, I couldn’t help breathing deeper through my mouth, when I faintly heard.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, okay, McIntyre, that’s all the information I need, I’ll let you get back to-- “</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">"No, no, no!!” I screamed.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“What?!?” Mr. Wesson said.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Casey really started working on me now, right when I really needed to think of a reason to continue the phone call. I simultaneously really loved him and hated him at the same time.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Um, to be honest sir, I really think we need to go over the responsibilities that we in the accounting department have, um, those have changed recently and I think, I think I would really be remiss if I didn’t have those clear in my head.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">The <span style="font-size: small;"><i>only</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span>thing I had clear in my head was Casey's tongue slipping over my clit, tickling and teasing.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, that’s a bit of a lengthy list, McIntyre, I don’t…”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Please, please, Mr. Wesson,” I pleaded, perhaps a bit too desperately, “Go over them again.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well okay. First off, there’s the matter of making sure the figures in the quarterly spreadsheets are...”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I reached down and held Casey's head against my wet hungry pussy, putting my feet up against the edge of the desk. I couldn’t believe how deep he was, how good he felt, how teasing and talented his tongue was. Most of all, I couldn’t believe how much he was in tune to me, he took notice of everything and memorized it, if he got any kind of reaction, he would do a few more licks on that side of my clit and then move on and then come back to it, like he was reading my mind. In the end, I’m not sure what I was doing, besides not letting his head go till he fucking finished, feeling the sweat bead on my skin, but I knew what it was all heading toward. Me arching back in my chair, bearing down on all the ecstasy thrilling through my body. I kept breathing, not holding it in, but spreading the amazing bliss all over, from my tight shoulders to my trembling calves.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">After the waves slowly subsided, I collapsed in my chair, letting my feet fall to the floor. My head fell back and my eyes closed against the glare of fluorescent lights. My hand let go of Casey's head and went limp and my fist finally let go and relaxed, I wouldn’t be surprised if it started floating involuntarily in the air, its certainly what I felt like doing.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“…before the deadline and certainly before the quarterly business meetings, if those numbers aren’t there, then the whole department has egg on its face. Now, I’ve talked to the department heads about whittling this list down, because I know that sometimes it can all seem like a bit much.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Ohhhhhh,” I said slowly, dreamily, “that’s okay, Mr. Wesson.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Well, that’s good to hear, McIntyre, nice to have a team player. I’ll go ahead and let you go.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I took a deep breath, turned off the headset and flipped it on the desk.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Casey slowly poked his head up, gingerly wiping his mouth and flashing happy dimples. “How was that?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“It was…amazing,” I said, then shaking my head, “and horrible, and it was, god, it was fantastic.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Ready to do it again?”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">I shook my head again in surprise. “No! No, of course I don’t want to do it again! I could have lost my job, my boss could’ve found out, I could’ve been fired.”</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Casey just knelt there, smiling up at me.</div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">“No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head, “never, ever, ever…we are NEVER doing that again!”</div><br /><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">And then the phone rang.</div><br />=======================<div><br /></div><div>&nbsp; I hope you enjoyed that and trust me, there's a LOT more where that come from! &nbsp;I've had more people tell me to put a WARNING sticker on this book to NOT read it at work! LOL &nbsp;:)</div><div><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Buy your copy now&nbsp;</span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Pretty-When-You-Cry-Expanded/dp/1537112376/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">HERE (US)</a><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;">&nbsp;or&nbsp;</span><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Pretty-When-You-Cry-Expanded/dp/1537112376/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&amp;qid=&amp;sr=" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">HERE (UK)</a><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;">&nbsp;!</span></div><div><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyREoB9hpKs/WFwQA47Xb7I/AAAAAAAAAYY/wrMy5wi9aFcxC9hM0wp5xd1tDwvbtRFcwCEw/s1600/13950812_1571414139830497_499290170_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyREoB9hpKs/WFwQA47Xb7I/AAAAAAAAAYY/wrMy5wi9aFcxC9hM0wp5xd1tDwvbtRFcwCEw/s640/13950812_1571414139830497_499290170_o.jpg" width="448" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-6987301971132605282016-08-25T12:23:00.000-07:002016-08-25T12:23:19.501-07:00Five Essentials for any Great BDSM Scene!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jE0bzVEQyq8/V79Ex29AUJI/AAAAAAAAAWM/v6aRISSL-k8Kehh5LpGg5u3944qm084OgCLcB/s1600/bdsmemblem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jE0bzVEQyq8/V79Ex29AUJI/AAAAAAAAAWM/v6aRISSL-k8Kehh5LpGg5u3944qm084OgCLcB/s1600/bdsmemblem.jpg" /></a></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">In addition to writing BDSM erotica, I’m also an active member in the local BDSM community where I live and I thought I’d touch on a few things that are essential to enjoying all this kinky fun you’ve been reading about. The absolute bedrock foundation is the principle of ‘Safe, Sane and Consensual’.&nbsp; Safe, in that the activities involved have been gone over to mitigate as much risk as possible. Sane, so that the activities cause no mental or psychological harm and most importantly CONSENT. Consensuality is of utmost importance, if all the participants have NOT consented to what’s going on, it’s not BDSM anymore, its assault and abuse, period. There are no fifty shades of gray here.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">On this foundation, I believe there are five essentials to a great BDSM scene. A lot of people mistakenly believe that you need to have expensive toys or equipment, a fully functional dungeon or porn star’s body to have nasty kinky fun.&nbsp; But, the truth is, one can have an immense amount of fun with just their hand, a willing ass and a lap to bend them over.</span></div><ol><li><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Good clear communication</span></strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">&nbsp;– Having strong communication skills is very important for an enjoyable scene. The Dom/Top needs to check in periodically on the sub/bottom to make sure things are copacetic and conversely the bottom needs to be able to gauge their condition and communicate that to the Top.</span></span></div></li><li><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">A thirst for knowledge</span></strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">&nbsp;– Certainly all the participants in whatever activity they are engaging in need to have as much knowledge about as they possibly can, the burden being on the Top. They not only need to know the ins and outs of spanking, flogging, caning, etc, but they also need to be as well-versed as they possibly can about any issues that can arise. But the learning does not stop there. Anytime you play with someone new, you are starting from scratch, learning their responses, watching for clues, checking in with them and taking in all that information and using it to give the best possible experience for both of you.</span></span></div></li><li><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">A strong desire for fun</span></strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">&nbsp;– If you’re not in this for the sheer unbridled fun of it, then you need to get out. Even though we may mete out seemingly merciless pain, whispered threats in the ear and binding inescapable restraint, its all to bring the most pleasure we can and also, to have hot orgasmic fun.</span></span></div></li><li><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Adaptability</span></strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">&nbsp;– Run out of rope? Handcuffs won’t fit? Did you break your rattan cane against their ass (probably the most intense mix of excitement and disappointment you’ll ever have ;))? Well, I’m afraid you’re gonna learn pretty quickly to adapt. It never ceases to amaze Me how creative kinky people are and how our devious little minds are always working out ways to torment and excite. In addition, in case something doesn’t quite work out like it should, it helps to be quick on your feet and adapt to the new situation.</span></span></div></li><li><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">A sense of humor&nbsp;</span></strong><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">- This is something I’ve learned from the group I go to here in town. I personally think BDSM works best when you take your Kink very seriously, but not yourself. In other words, you should take what you do seriously, taking care of your partner’s needs, knowing all you can about what you’re doing, etc. But at the end of the night, you need to realize you’re not really Lord Master DragonSlayer the Third. Because sure as fuck, one of these days during one of your scenes, things are gonna go sideways and its all gonna come crashing down that you’re just Joe Smith from accounting. And at that moment, you’re gonna have to decide, are you gonna get upset or are you gonna just laugh at yourself and move on? Trust me, the second option is not only the best way to make sure you can salvage the scene, but in the long run, is just the healthier way to go.</span></span></div></li></ol><br /><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">With these five essentials, you’ll be well on your way to having a very enjoyable and fun time exploring your kinky and sexy depraved interests.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RrT5VL-5eBM/V79Ex8ggzOI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/d0pOpLj1bk8Dlrlb2jF6iwRArdk8bz_wACEw/s1600/handsrope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RrT5VL-5eBM/V79Ex8ggzOI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/d0pOpLj1bk8Dlrlb2jF6iwRArdk8bz_wACEw/s320/handsrope.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="LEFT" style="border: none; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; padding: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-29482387885335503242016-07-25T08:10:00.003-07:002016-07-25T08:10:48.274-07:00Book Spotlight : Taking The Stage by Paige Parsons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RRNlQ5js7is/V5Yo_L5X_5I/AAAAAAAAAVo/jdeNfd0wkB4zWtOVHXMj1iqgg_qljTDNgCLcB/s1600/13835575_167556396989336_162520520_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RRNlQ5js7is/V5Yo_L5X_5I/AAAAAAAAAVo/jdeNfd0wkB4zWtOVHXMj1iqgg_qljTDNgCLcB/s400/13835575_167556396989336_162520520_o.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">6 weeks of rehearsal, 6 weeks to get the lead actress on stage, and 6 weeks to fall in love. The only consistent thing in her life was time.</span></h3><div><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Her lying, cheating husband betrayed her. Devastated, she quit her teaching job. Now Robyn Rose isn't sure she has it in her to start over again in the only job she ever really enjoyed—the theatre. <br /><br />But support for her penniless artistic future is limited, until she meets Joseph James Davis. He is the director of Robyn’s last-chance gig, and has some unique, over-his-lap sorts of ideas about what it takes to keep his stage manager on her best behavior. He also might just be her last chance at love. <br /><br />Now, if only they can get their lead actress (who is also his ex-girlfriend) to take the stage without destroying their possibility at a future together. </span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Buy now on&nbsp;<a href="http://www.amazon.com/PaigeParson/e/B01IYG2YDM/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1469334290&amp;sr=8-1">Amazon</a>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&amp;p=3910&amp;welcome=1">Blushing Books</a>!</span></h4><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YkT5Veoc2zw/V5YpDQJkdJI/AAAAAAAAAVw/ueII0VS0kgc1ErFRcgWRUBU_YzaG7BSoQCEw/s1600/13819697_167556433655999_379765518_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YkT5Veoc2zw/V5YpDQJkdJI/AAAAAAAAAVw/ueII0VS0kgc1ErFRcgWRUBU_YzaG7BSoQCEw/s400/13819697_167556433655999_379765518_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h4><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Excerpt :&nbsp;</span></h4><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“She’s not just actor crazy! She’s beyond psycho-diva-drama-queen crazy! She’s the kind of crazy that has an actual diagnosis. It comes with pills, twenty-four-hour watches, and small padded rooms. That bitch practically took my head off!” <br /><br />Joseph stood next to the door, blocking escape by the ranting bundle bouncing around his office. He’d wrangled her into it after he came up on a scene right out of a movie—two beautiful women in the throes of an anything but beautiful cat fight. It was rounded out with co-stars and deck hands pulling the two of them apart. <br /><br />“Don’t you stand there like I’m overreacting, because you know that I’m not. This has been coming for weeks! I blame you.” <br /><br />“Excuse me?” <br /><br />Joseph knew Roby’s feelings on just about everything, but he was still more than curious to see where she was going with this particular proclamation. She often had a poker face, but never a poker mouth, facts that usually led to heated discussions, and often her to a heated backside. This was not a new argument. He knew what she wanted. It was what she’d wanted since the first week Kat showed up. Roby wanted her gone. So, in that regard, he supposed she was right that it was his fault, because he had zero intent of sending their lead actress packing.</span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Buy now on&nbsp;<a href="http://www.amazon.com/PaigeParson/e/B01IYG2YDM/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1469334290&amp;sr=8-1">Amazon</a>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&amp;p=3910&amp;welcome=1">Blushing Books</a>!</span></h4></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h4><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bio :&nbsp;</span></h4><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Paige Parsons is a creative Joan of all Trades, with her first love being theatre. However, theatre rarely paid the bills so, she's also worked as an educator, journalist, UPS customer service representative, and a receptionist at a record label. <br /><br />Now living and working in Asia, Paige, a native New Yorker, has always loved the world of make believe and was a voracious reader and wild storyteller growing up. <br /><br />She has been making up stories and getting them on paper for as long as she can remember and is always thrilled when someone expresses love for something she's written. After years of fear, and waiting for the right moment, she finished, submitted, and is thrilled to present her first full length novel. <br /><br />She holds an undergraduate degree in Communication/English-Creative Writing and a graduate degree in Education and has spent the last 25 years collecting stories around the stage as an actress, stage manager, and production manager. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Paige loves to tell stories, read stories, and put stories up on the stage.</span>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-6352664565118026652016-07-17T10:21:00.000-07:002016-07-17T10:21:04.051-07:00All you need is LOVEFrom spending time with friends who are plus size and in different forums and groups with many lovely and beautiful people who happen to be plus size, I've been trying to gather my thoughts and say something important to these friends who I value so dearly.<br /><br />I know that so many of you struggle daily with conflicts internal and external. Whether its from rude people or from lack of confidence or self-esteem, it can seem overwhelming. And it doesn't help that society constantly bombards us with images and messages specifically designed to make us feel lousy about ourselves, just so we will buy their latest product. However, I've come to a very important conclusion about ourselves and our desires.<br /><br />If you can't come to yourself with love and acceptance, you will never acheive any of your goals, no matter what they are. Whether they are professional, interpersonal or personal goals, if you look in the mirror and detest what you see, you will never succeed at anything.<br /><br />And that's because HATRED IS THE WORST MOTIVATOR.<br /><br />We've become so conditioned by society and the diet/health INDUSTRY (yes, it is a BUSINESS), that we need to feel badly about ourselves to motivate us to want to change. But I believe that by starting with hating our bodies and ourselves, we are sabotaging ourselves before we even begin. We are tripping ourselves before the race even starts.<br /><br />I know its hard to wrap our heads around it at first, but we need to come to ourselves with love and acceptance. Then and ONLY THEN, will we make changes about how we treat ourselves. If we make a concentrated and strong effort to love ourselves, than we will start to think differently about ourselves. We will change the negative self-talk that pollutes our thoughts and start with more self-affirming thought patterns. Once we start doing that, then we will start treating ourselves differenty. We'll start thinking about our health, our lives, our relationships in a different, more positive way.<br /><br />We might want to start getting out more, doing some excercise, maybe change our eating habits. We'll start to see the toxic relationships and people in our lives and start shedding those things and cultivate healthy relationships with like-minded positive people. But all this will ONLY come if start by loving ourselves. Every beautiful inch. Every dry patch, every belly roll, every pimple, every wrinkle. It starts with love.<br /><br />Will it be easy? Nope. Certainly not at first, not easy at all. But it will, eventually.<br />Will the changes be overnight? Nope, they will start small and slowly, over a great deal of time.<br />Will there be immediate weight loss, will you get that bikini body by summer, your six pack abs in two weeks? Nope, certainly not. &nbsp;But that's not the point. It's never been the point.<br /><br />When you love yourself, you will just naturally treat yourself better. Your views will change, your habits will change, your friends will most certainly change and more often than not, they will so slowly you probably won't even know its happening. But one of these days, you will look back and and see an old picture of yourself, and it will be like you're looking at yourself though a dull and dim light. And more recent pics will seem more radiant and bright.<br /><br />But it will only come from love. Hating yourself will NEVER transform your life. It will only come from the love you have in your heart for yourself. Then you will change, not only for the better, but it will be permanent.<br /><br />Thank you and know that I love all of you and all that you are in my life so much. &nbsp;:)Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-24867722593427843662016-07-04T08:00:00.000-07:002016-07-04T08:01:04.263-07:00Fourth of July Spotlight! - Her Drill Sergeant Dom by Katherine Deane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3gSHcb9wo6A/V3p37zKK62I/AAAAAAAAAU8/8IBTl9J-y_ArY62feqIhqhjjdT_Khc_KgCLcB/s1600/drillsargeantdom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3gSHcb9wo6A/V3p37zKK62I/AAAAAAAAAU8/8IBTl9J-y_ArY62feqIhqhjjdT_Khc_KgCLcB/s400/drillsargeantdom.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br /><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Basic training is a killer—in more ways than one.</span></h3><div><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />USA Today bestselling author Katherine Deane brings you a romantic suspense that will leave you gasping. <br /><br />Twenty-four year old journalist Smyth McCullen is following the trail of a killer, right onto Fort Hancock Army training center. After two murders of young women just out of basic, both under the same drill sergeant, Smyth knows she must join the Army to unravel the truth. <br /><br />Little does she know that Basic is dangerous in more ways than one. Protecting her battle buddy, working through sixteen hours of grueling training a day, and following a potential bad guy, is nothing compared to falling for a dominant, undercover drill sergeant. <br /><br />Hunter Jones is undercover, looking into the potential murders under Drill Sergeant Cage’s direction. He’s been through many deployments, both public, and some not so public. He’s interrogated bad guys, fallen behind enemy lines, and is prepared in every way to act as a drill sergeant and save another potential victim. What he’s not prepared for is the sexy, young strawberry blonde who is definitely not eighteen. <br /><br />As their attraction grows, they march one step closer to the end of the session, and imminent danger. Can Smyth find the killer in time? Can Hunter protect the next target, especially if it’s Smyth? <br /><br />Lovers of steamy romance, hot military heroes and plucky heroines will adore Katherine Deane’s hot new romantic suspense. <br /><br />Her Drill Sergeant Dom is a fully written story with HEA and no cliffhangers.</span><br /><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Buy Now on Amazon - http://amzn.to/29atjbU</b></span></h3><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">FREE on Kindle Unlimited</h3><div><br /></div><h3><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Excerpt :&nbsp;</span></h3><div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">So. Let me see if I can take a guess.” He walked back in front of her, and watched her gaze as she followed him. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green and hazel—they were even brighter right now. “You decided instead of getting some much needed sleep, that you would disobey the rules about activity after lights out. You took out your non-Army issued reading material, your flashlight, and snuck it into your bed. Is that right?”</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She squeaked an un-intelligible murmur, and averted her gaze. </span></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">You have been very naughty, Private McCullen. Tell me.” He leaned in closer and met her gaze. “What happens to naughty girls in the books you read?”</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif; font-size: large;">She sucked in a breath, and tensed her body, her eyes closed for a second as she shivered. “Oh God.”</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Tell me the truth. Please. What happens to naughty little girls who disobey in your stories?”</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif; font-size: large;">McCullen licked her lips and rocked back and forth before looking down the full length of his body. Her sudden inhale of breath preceded an awkward tilt of her pelvis when she saw his tented shorts. Her eyes met his, and she leaned in toward him, inhaling his scent. She broke contact first and looked at his chest. “I don’t know.”</span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Do they get sent to bed without supper? Do they have to do extra work around the farm? How does the man punish his woman?” He shouldn't be doing this. Even if he had read the signs wrong, even if she wasn't who she said she was, it was completely irresponsible, not to mention a misuse of his authority. He should send her to bed right now.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“<span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">They get spanked,” she whispered and met his gaze again.</span></span></div><br /><br /><h3><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>About Katherine Deane</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">USA Today bestselling author Katherine Deane</span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">&nbsp;</span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">is a</span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b></b></span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">multi-published, top 100 romantic and BDSM author and romantic at heart.&nbsp;While she enjoys her life as a stay at home mom, married to the man of her dreams, she also loves fantasizing.&nbsp;She reads and writes in many different genres, but her favorites are:&nbsp;erotic romance, paranormal, fantasy, and science fiction.&nbsp;She blogs about her life as an everyday woman (and closet Spanko), and about her career as a published author.<br /><br />You can catch up with her at: </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://katherinedeane.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">http://katherinedeane.wordpress.com</span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;vollkorn&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;"><br /></span></span></span><a href="https://twitter.com/KatherineDeane1"><span style="font-family: inherit , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Twitter</span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;vollkorn&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;"><br /></span></span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/katherine.deane.50?fref=ts"><span style="font-family: inherit , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Facebook</span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4075468.Katherine_Deane"><span style="font-family: &quot;vollkorn&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Goodreads</span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;vollkorn&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;"><br /></span></span></span><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/katherinedeane5/"><span style="font-family: inherit , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Pinterest</span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Katherine-Deane/e/B00ITTZEDM/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1422551278&amp;sr=8-1"><span style="font-family: &quot;vollkorn&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15pt;">Amazon</span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Join my mailing list, and get notified whenever I have new releases, sales, or freebies. Don’t worry. I won’t share your email and promise not to spam you. Thanks!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://eepurl.com/b24PeH">http://eepurl.com/b24PeH</a></div></h3></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a></div></div></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-55144488444918225792016-06-28T19:19:00.000-07:002016-06-28T19:19:08.843-07:00Book Spotlight : Daddy Takes The Reins by Kelly Dawson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uEhesHYZ-vY/V3MsDcg4eaI/AAAAAAAAAUg/c9KwF3VYptoOK7wOPjNIHOKtISoyotJXACLcB/s1600/Daddy%2BTakes%2Bthe%2BReins-Kelly%2BD-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uEhesHYZ-vY/V3MsDcg4eaI/AAAAAAAAAUg/c9KwF3VYptoOK7wOPjNIHOKtISoyotJXACLcB/s400/Daddy%2BTakes%2Bthe%2BReins-Kelly%2BD-cover.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When she lands a job as an apprentice jockey at a racing stable, Bianca is determined not to let her Tourette’s Syndrome interfere with her dream career, and she does her best to conceal her occasional tics from her ridiculously handsome new boss. But Clay Lewis is not an easy man to fool. He soon discovers her secret, and when he casually mentions that she ought to be spanked for her deception it sets Bianca’s heart racing like nothing ever has before.<br /><br />Her crush on Clay grows stronger by the day, but while she strives to impress him at work Bianca struggles to deal with tragic circumstances in her own life. With her younger sister—and lifelong best friend—incapacitated by terminal cancer and becoming more dependent on her by the day, she finds herself pushing herself to the point of skipping meals and going without sleep.<br /><br />Clay can see the toll that stress is taking on Bianca, and when she collapses from exhaustion at the stable he knows it is time for him to step in, but not as a boss or as a boyfriend. What she needs is a loving daddy who will both comfort her when she is sad and bare her bottom and spank her like a naughty little girl when she doesn’t take care of herself properly.<br /><br />Bianca delights in the attention she receives from Clay, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her as his own it brings her more pleasure than she would have ever thought possible, but she cannot help wondering if he will stay by her side even when her tics are at their worst. Can she truly trust Clay enough to surrender her heart to him and let her daddy take the reins?<br /><br />Publisher’s Note: Daddy Takes the Reins is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, age play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.</span><div><br /></div><h3><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Excerpt :&nbsp;</span></h3><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She sat on the edge of the bath, resting against him, watching while he squirted shower gel into the running water to make suds. Despite still feeling so wobbly on her feet, so weak and dizzy, she smiled. How long had it been since she’d had a bubble bath? She couldn’t remember. <br /><br /> She didn’t protest when Clay undid the buttons on her shirt, gently easing it back off her shoulders. She didn’t complain when he slid her jodhpurs down her thighs, lifting up first one foot and then the other, to pull them off the ends of her feet. But she let out a startled cry when his soft hands returned to her back, to undo the fastenings on her bra. <br /><br /> “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, kissing her cheek. “You’re safe, I promise you. You wanted to be a little kid again, to have someone take care of you, to be claimed and punished. Well I’m claiming you. I’m taking care of you. I’ll be your daddy – you’ll be my little girl. I will take care of you.” <br /><br /> Too tired to argue, she smiled in agreement. Right now, that sounded like bliss. <br /><br /> She didn’t resist when Clay gently slid her bra forward down over her arms, freeing her breasts. And when he stood her up to slide her knickers down her legs, she cooperated with him, holding onto his shoulders for balance and lifting her feet one at a time so she could step out of them. Strangely, she wasn’t embarrassed when she stood there in front of him in all her naked glory, watching as his eyes roamed over her. <br /><br /> “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Then he stood up. “In you get,” he commanded, helping her step over the side and lower herself down into the bubbles. <br /><br /> She leaned back and closed her eyes as the warm water washed over her, disappearing under the hot suds right up to her neck. She kept her eyes closed as Clay soaped up a washcloth and ran it over her skin, thoroughly cleaning her entire body, every single crevice, with a gentle, circular motion. She should be asking him to stop, she should be mortified at this man touching her, washing her most intimate places, but she wasn’t. She felt cared for and secure; she felt all her stress slipping away as the suds washed over her. She felt content. <br /><br /> “Lie back.” Clay pushed her head down into the water gently, running his fingers through her hair, wetting the strands from root to tip. She could feel the strength in his fingers as he massaged her scalp, kneading the shampoo over her head and through her hair. Thick lather ran down his wrists and into the water around her as he washed her hair, then he tilted her head back and rinsed it out expertly. <br /><br /> She smiled. When had anyone ever washed her hair? She hadn’t even set foot in a hair salon in years – Annie always trimmed her hair for her when it got too long. She’d never cared enough about her appearance to bother with professional haircuts. It seemed a bit pointless really, to pay a fortune for a flash hair-do when she looked ridiculous anyway by screwing up her face at random. Annie. How was she getting on? Was she all settled into her new home already? Now that she knew Rose’s immediate future was secure, she’d been intending to go and visit Annie, maybe take her out for lunch. She sat up. <br /><br /> “I need to go; I have to go see Annie.” <br /><br /> Clay shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere – you’re exhausted. You need a sleep. After you’ve had a nap, I’ll drive you there myself, I promise.” <br /><br /> “I need to see her,” she whined. “You don’t understand,” she pleaded. <br /><br /> Clay put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “You will see her, but you need a nap first. You’ve been running yourself ragged, stressing yourself out to the point of collapse.” He looked at his watch. “It’s only 11 o’clock. Ordinarily, you’d still be working now. You can sleep until 2pm, then we’ll go visit her. Deal? I’ll get your shift covered for this afternoon so you can spend the entire evening with her.” <br /><br /> She nodded. That sounded fair. <br /><br /> “I’m glad you agreed to that, little girl,” he told her, and winked. Then his voice took on a stern tone. “Because when little girls are naughty, they go across their daddy’s knee, their pants get pulled down, and their bottoms get smacked. It would be most unfortunate if you found yourself in that position now, wouldn’t it?” He winked again. “A spanking hurts so much more on wet skin."</span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h3><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bio :&nbsp;</span></h3><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book - preferably one containing spanking! <br /><br />Daddy Takes the Reins is particularly close to Kelly’s heart because, like Bianca, Kelly has Tourette’s Syndrome. The experiences Bianca goes through due to her Tourette’s are similar in many ways to what Kelly has gone through herself. <br /><br />A life-long closet-spanko, Kelly started writing spanking stories on every spare scrap of paper in the house as a child. So when she discovered the internet and spanking romance along with it, she was most excited. But it took her a good decade of devouring these stories before she got up the courage to submit her own. And now, here she is, 6 books later, with a plethora of ideas still to write! <br /><br />She lives literally at the bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four kids, a dog and a cat. </span><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Daddy-Takes-Reins-Kelly-Dawson-ebook/dp/B01G9KZKMW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1464400458&amp;sr=1-1&amp;keywords=Daddy+Takes+the+Reins+by+Kelly+Dawson"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Amazon</span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/daddy-takes-the-reins-kelly-dawson/1123860470?ean=2940158364174"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Barnes &amp; Noble</span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></span></span><a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-daddytakesthereins-2048755-147.html?referrer=561b48e08bbe8"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">All Romance ebooks</span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/daddy-takes-the-reins?utm_source=linkshare_us&amp;utm_medium=Affiliate&amp;utm_campaign=linkshare_us&amp;siteID=hUnLKTScRMc-FeEwFqQ9FzG___ro_v3nJQ">Kobo</a></span></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><br /><h3><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Author Links: </span></h3><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My blog: <a href="http://www.kellydawsonauthor.blogspot.co.nz/">http://www.kellydawsonauthor.blogspot.co.nz/</a> <br /><br />Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008980697756">https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008980697756</a> <br /><br />Google+: <a href="https://www.google.com/+KellyDawsonauthor">https://www.google.com/+KellyDawsonauthor</a> <br /><br />Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/KELLYDAWSONauth">https://twitter.com/KELLYDAWSONauth</a> <br /><br />Pinterest: <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/kellydawsonau/">https://www.pinterest.com/kellydawsonau/</a> <br /><br />Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13257528.Kelly_Dawson">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13257528.Kelly_Dawson</a> <br /><br />Amazon author page: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/author/kellydawson">https://www.amazon.com/author/kellydawson</a> <br /><br />Newsletter sign-up: <a href="http://eepurl.com/bRukkv">http://eepurl.com/bRukkv</a></span><br /><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-34980123560262062362016-06-21T10:03:00.001-07:002016-06-21T10:03:51.938-07:00Book Spotlight - Reluctant Submission : Educating Meredith by R.R. Greaves<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lMBfzfp7lq0/V2lvPTdhTkI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1hILqcmWkvUPV3RBBDp11s9lHCVul8KkgCLcB/s1600/Reluctant%2BSubmission%2BEducating%2BMeredith-cover.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lMBfzfp7lq0/V2lvPTdhTkI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1hILqcmWkvUPV3RBBDp11s9lHCVul8KkgCLcB/s400/Reluctant%2BSubmission%2BEducating%2BMeredith-cover.JPG" width="288" /></a></div><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Reluctant Submission:</span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Educating Meredith</span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">by R. R. Greaves</span></h2><div><br /><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How many of us cannot honestly say we would like to see either our current or some of our previous bosses get their overdue comeuppance?</span>&nbsp;</h3><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Meet Meredith, the despotic, man-hating but successful CEO of Danforth Enterprises. Her employees work harder at avoiding her than they do most anything else. However, her long-suffering PA, Penelope simply cannot avoid her wrath. <br /><br />Enter the enigmatic Damien Franks, contracted by Penelope to renovate her boss’s executive bathroom. Damien has other skills and Penelope knows what they are. Taking pity on Penelope, and finding the feisty CEO strangely attractive albeit challenging, he sets out to tame the beast that is Miss Meredith Smythe. The renovation of Miss Smythe will require every skill and all the patience this accomplished Dominant possesses. But, with the help of a friend, and a few tools of the trade, Damien is confident that he can bring out the best in his new client and save Penelope from even further humiliation and anguish. But can he? <br /><br />Despite her resistance, Meredith finds herself increasingly unable to resist Damien as she is drawn further into his web. <br /><br />This is a story of dominance and submission; of power and control. It is not for the faint hearted as it takes the reader into the murky but highly erotic world of BDSM. <br /><br />For more exciting titles from this best selling author, go to <a href="http://www.rrgreaveseroticauthor.com/">www.rrgreaveseroticauthor.com</a> and get some spice into your reading life. <br /><br />Buy it Now!</span> <br /><br /><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_list&amp;m=299">Blushing Books</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/R.R.-Greaves/e/B00NRSVKOC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/r.r.-greaves">Barnes and Noble</a></span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><h4><u>Excerpt :&nbsp;</u></h4><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In one sharp tug, he ripped her expensive panties from her. He rolled them up in his hand, and just as she opened her mouth to protest, he unceremoniously shoved them deep inside her mouth. "Bite down upon them, Meredith. It will help you deal with the pain." <br /><br />She was shocked at this turn of events but despite trying to eject them, she found that he was holding them firmly in place, waiting for her to settle down a little. Her mind was reeling at the sheer brutality of what had just happened to her, but with no further movement it was not long before she began to calm down. Her saliva was wetting the material of her gag and she swallowed, noting the taste before realizing that was the taste of her. She tasted her own excitement and she was shocked by the experience. She wondered if this man could do anything more to debase her. <br /><br />Holding her firmly, Damien delivered the first two blows. Drawing his arm back in a large roundhouse arc, his hand came crashing down on one of Meredith's butt cheeks. Before she had time to respond he repeated the action on her remaining cheek. Meredith grunted as the pain registered and her legs jerked, but remained in place. There was a pause before he hit her with a barrage of blows, which were still firm but not quite as hard as the first two. Six rained down upon each cheek as he held her firmly by her bound wrists. As he was delivering them he removed his hand from the gag. <br /><br />By the time he delivered the final blow, she was squirming around as much as his firm grip would allow, each leg flying into the air in response to the stinging and deeply painful impacts. Finally, she broke down, pushing her panties from her mouth. <br /><br />"Please… no more… please… I beg you," she sobbed. <br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Damien paused, feeling the heat emanating from her butt as he picked up her panties before repositioning himself, wrapping one leg over hers. "Your behavior is boorish and unacceptable in any civilized society, Miss Smythe. You may think that you can treat people as you wish, but they have rights. If you are unable to temper your own behavior, I am prepared to temper it for you. You have experienced what an erotic spanking can be like. Now you will experience a punishment spanking. You alone can decide what you would prefer to receive in the future. Do you wish to accept the gag back? It will make it that little bit easier for you."<br /><br />There was a pause as she considered her options. In the future, she thought. There isn't going to be a future, but then she remembered last time she was in this position and she had thought the same thing. As much as she hated him, she realized he was trying to help her in a roundabout and twisted way. Eventually she hung her head and nodded. </span><br /><br /><br /><h4><u>Bio :&nbsp;</u></h4><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">R. R. Greaves was born in Melbourne, Australia in 1958. Having lived in many parts of Australia and overseas, Greaves now resides in Sydney and she writes for fun. <br /><br />With a lifelong interest in her subject matter she finally decided to put some of her experiences and fantasies into words, toning them down somewhat for public consumption. Her first book was released in mid 2014. This was followed by a new release in Feb 2015 and there are a number of new stories in different stages of production. <br /><br />With a particular interest in specific forms of erotica, the stories have a lot of explicit detail that comes from years of "hands on" experience. All have a strong element of power exchange between consenting parties. While most involve a key female character submitting to a powerful male, they have a mixture of dominant characters with women submitting to other women, men submitting to women and men submitting to other men. <br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A key part of the exchange of power between the characters involves the use of consensual physical and mental force, BDSM and spanking. <br /><br />Check out these other titles by R.R. Greaves <br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seduction-Submission-R-R-Greaves-ebook/dp/B00LF3R4WI/ref=la_B00NRSVKOC_1_1?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1433175297&amp;sr=1-1">From Seduction to Submission</a> <br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Reluctant-Submission-Educating-R-R-Greaves-ebook/dp/B00TBNBVPK/ref=la_B00NRSVKOC_1_2?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1433175297&amp;sr=1-2">Reluctant Submission: Educating Meredith</a></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-59267607698276708812016-06-15T04:51:00.000-07:002016-06-15T04:51:31.144-07:00WIP It Up Wednesday - Snippet from Untitled Kimber project!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHwD4Ujle8/VqJ9UnEEHHI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ibTINe6n3mcIg-FGKzoRa6E_fJIN9iD7ACKgB/s1600/WIP33.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHwD4Ujle8/VqJ9UnEEHHI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ibTINe6n3mcIg-FGKzoRa6E_fJIN9iD7ACKgB/s400/WIP33.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I'm so excited &nbsp;participating in the WIP it up Wednesday blog hop again. &nbsp;Today, I'm especially excited to be sharing another snippet from the second of the series in Kimber Cassidy Mysteries. &nbsp;The first exciting adventrue, "Smart As A Whip", was released by Blushing Books and I've been genuinely humbled from all the positive responses I've gotten from it!</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r1E9LOq_AS0/VqJ9DOL-cWI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Ef5p3fBMVBcKHCyUHiQVnROQ51jqkp0owCKgB/s1600/red%2Bplus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r1E9LOq_AS0/VqJ9DOL-cWI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Ef5p3fBMVBcKHCyUHiQVnROQ51jqkp0owCKgB/s400/red%2Bplus.jpg" width="303" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber Cassidy is a smart, sexy plus-size young woman in her mid-twenties, who is on her way of following in her father's footsteps of solving crimes and exacting justice. Her father, Douglas Cassidy, taught her everything he could before he was tragically killed in the line of duty when she was just 16.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She's big, beautiful, brash and blunt and she's going to catch the culprit, no matter what it takes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s640/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="436" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">In today's snippet, Kimber is meeting with her old friend, Chrissy, whose family has just come back from England, when her father just got transferred back home by his work. Not long after, he was killed in a manner similar to a serial killer's MO. The Tarot Card Killer terrorized East Alton back when Kimber was a teenager and her father was alive, investigating the killings.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber meets Chrissy at a hotel bar to comfort her friend and catch up on old times. Over drinks, Kimber tells Chrissy about her work at the paper and her investigation of a murder at a BDSM playspace (covered in "Smart As A Whip") and her dating the sexy dominant, Jeremy Chambers. &nbsp;Chrissy implores her friend to help investigate her father's death and Kimber agrees, hoping to get to the bottom of the grisly murder.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">===========</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber nodded, recording it all in her pad. Chrissy smiled. Kimber looked up to notice. "What?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Nothing baby. It's just that I remember when I left, you were so lost, because of what had happened. And now...its just so cool to see."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber felt her cheeks flush and she smiled. "Well, appearances can be deceiving."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Oh, is there something up?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber thought briefly about telling her all of what happened. "A conversation for another time."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Oooo," Chrissy said, giggling, she leaned forward in her chair. "It's a date, baby."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber started giggling too. She was starting to feel her whiskey and she could tell Chrissy was settling into her buzz. Chrissy picked up Kimber's hand from the table and held it, her fingers tracing around the top and around her knuckles. "Sooo, Miss Kimber, Private Eye, anything else you'd like to know?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Ummm," Kimber took a deep breath, feeling her toes curl in her shoes. "Do you know if I could talk to your mom sometime?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Oh yeah, sure, no problem. She'd been wondering about you, so I'm sure she'll be glad to see you. Probably not tonight, though."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Oh?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Chrissy giggled again. "I'm in no shape to see my mom tonight. I'm just gonna go up to my room."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Okay baby, that's fine," Kimber said as she watched Chrissy down the rest of her drink. "Do you need any help?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Nope," Chrissy said, waving her hand, "I'm fine." Chrissy stood up and wobbled a bit. Then she went to push her chair in and almost fell, bending over the table.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber steadied her back to her feet. "How about if I help you back up to your room, baby?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Aww," she said, resting her head on Kimber's shoulder, "you're such a good friend."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber smiled and pointed Chrissy in the right direction out of the restaurant. &nbsp;They made their way through the lobby and then to the elevators. While they waited, Chrissy leaned on Kimber a bit and started sniffing around your neck.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "What are you doing?" Kimber asked.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "I'm smelling your hair. Your hair smells terrific."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber smirked. "It's because I use that shampoo."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "What shampoo?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "'Gee, your hair smells terrific'."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Chrissy snorted. "I haven't washed my hair in a couple of days, I'm a mess."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "No, I meant the shampoo I use."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "What shampoo do you use?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "'Gee, your hair smells terrific'."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "No, I told you I haven't washed my hair..."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Just then the elevator door opened.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Saved by the bell," Kimber said, as she helped Chrissy into the elevator. Chrissy stepped inside and leaned on one of the side walls.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "What floor are you on?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Up."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Yeah, I figured you weren't in the basement, I just didn't know what floor."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Chrissy pointed up at the elevator ceiling. "It's up there."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber rubbed her face, it was high school all over again. "Do you have your room key?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; She dug through her purse and after awhile, triumphantly held up a key so Kimber could look at it. She noted the number, 1407. Kimber pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. When the door opened, they made their way to Chrissy's room and Kimber helped her with her key to open the door.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Thank you honey, for coming down and seeing me and everything." Chrissy gave her a hug. She leaned into her, partially to keep from falling over and Kimber felt her body press into hers. Kimber grabbed hold of her to steady her and bit her lip.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "No worries baby, I'll text you tomorrow," she said. Once Chrissy had her balance back, she nodded and stepped back.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber had just turned to go, when she felt a sharp strike on her ass. Her eyes went wide as she slowly turned her head back to look at Chrissy. She was giggling, a perfect match for her mischievous grin.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "KINKY!" she exclaimed and then giggled more as she went into her room and shut the door.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">=====================</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Well, that's it for this week. Don't forget to check out the other wonderful authors in this blog hop and if you haven't gotten "Smart As A Whip", NOW is the time to get caught up! I hope to have the second book out by the end of the year, so get your copy of Kimber's first amazing adventure at the following stores!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon US :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a><br /><br />Amazon UK :<br /><a href="http://amzn.to/244Fr3w">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</a><br /><br />Amazon CA :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=RAQHXamiXAQGkC1Dh5v37fB52xWlkYLt3b9RoBnMmjnNN8A&amp;enc=AZOTIDJeLJt1J8GYSGKZebwzCpVjFisQcptipaL699xzaGDNO1wf2BQ2p4-JTpufS0ZnoyXpyVg4t6fwzR71M5l1fmtKm2vCwrRzV6-wjilEPsPUY-umLAiK6Yp4snjdtpclD4U43IjskmCyGPmCw4X3pf06SJ1V_eRQPa9yfAV5O5QmOOJeJRMDbZJV0bhXTvM7kaRS-7-k1VtgTy6qnwu_&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</a><br /><br />Barnes and Noble :<br /><a href="http://goo.gl/ZY5esh">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</a><br /><br />iTunes :<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=nAQFxWe8jAQEl6XwvseBXqkPEdKAvM8stnIiyKHRSD3ELPQ&amp;enc=AZNyMwyy7oiIoTrpCPJtbkUn2i1u5xGR9HR2OOOgTarO_TmG75ss1BlPGVu6ZZXSirB6M2YM5kPGNXcqlVlxgUHR7_KDcwa4YKVmun6m6CSjN8PZwgpbHawtb551Tpq48Tg-R_q2jbuTwuJw3-Q5BWoVCV0pHcqNIgvpS1jmeA9MUwfr7jYIcvrM2tscfLhTv8Fn-erinsiIlRfml_8krgz8&amp;s=1">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a></span><br /><br /><div><br /></div><!-- start LinkyTools script --><script src="http://www.linkytools.com/thumbnail_linky_include.aspx?id=270270" type="text/javascript" ></script><!-- end LinkyTools script -->Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-48551776079613239612016-06-13T09:14:00.000-07:002016-06-13T21:09:29.650-07:00Book Spotlight : Jailed Little Jade by Allison West<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRhHKdZ-SY/VylOnCWtT_I/AAAAAAAAAP0/CvrGCzOhIIkuTZLJhnXKl-f3CHRwtS6VgCKgB/s1600/JailedLittleJade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRhHKdZ-SY/VylOnCWtT_I/AAAAAAAAAP0/CvrGCzOhIIkuTZLJhnXKl-f3CHRwtS6VgCKgB/s400/JailedLittleJade.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />With a crappy ex-husband and a new lease on life, Jade Brooks moves to Spring Mills for a fresh start. What she gets is far more than she bargained for when Holden Foster shows up at her door.<br /><br />He’s hot, dominating, and harbors a secret of intergalactic proportion.<br /><br />When Jade is invited over to share a meal with Holden, she’s grateful for the company and a new friendship. Her curiosity gets the better of her when she finds a package on his counter and he tells her genuinely to open it up and see what was delivered.<br /><br />The cylinder, a device that travels through time and space, opens a portal and leads Jade and her new sexy friend to a prison colony on his home planet of Adair, where spankings are a regular occurrence and age regression is a requirement for jailed women to rehabilitate within the system.<br /><br />Given no choice but to become a little one, Jade must face a nanny with a firm hand, Holden as her poppa, and a blossoming relationship that is against the rules.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.25in;"><h3><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jailed-Little-Jade-Allison-West-ebook/dp/B01CPDZSQA"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u>Amazon</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u><a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&amp;p=3761&amp;welcome=1">Blushing Books</a></u></span></span></h3></div><div><br /></div><h3>Excerpt :&nbsp;</h3><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Trembling, she pushed herself from the cool floor. Glancing briefly in the bathroom mirror, she noticed the glass looked silly like that at a carnival distorting her image. Were they concerned she’d break the mirror and use a large shard as a weapon? She didn’t blame them. If they kept her prisoner, she’d do whatever it took to get away.<br /><br />Though she wasn’t caged, she still felt contained and Jade wasn’t pleased by it.<br /><br />“Usually I’d suggest you join the other little ones in the nursery but seeing as how you’ve already had a stressful morning; I’d prefer if you took a nap until you see Poppa at dinner.”<br /><br />Jade didn’t want to nap. “I’m not tired.” She also wasn’t a child and by the looks of the clothes and the fact she had a nanny, made it seem a bit preposterous. The entire situation was beyond absurd, but it seemed wherever she landed from the wormhole, rehabilitation meant dumbing down women. At least that was how Jade had seen it. She tried to piece together the puzzle that was laid out in front of her, but it made little sense.<br /><br />“You’ve had a long day, seeing as how you were brought in this morning.” <br /><br />“Brought in?” Jade asked. <br /><br />“Yes, by prison transport. I know the ride and acclimation into space can be quite daunting on the body.” <br /><br />“Space?” Jade repeated confused. Had this woman gone mad?</span><br /><h3>Bio:&nbsp;</h3><div><br /><br />Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Science Fiction, Victorian, Historical, and BDSM Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.<br /><br />Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog “Spanking Author.” http://spankingauthor.com<br /><br /><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0.25in;"><a href="http://spankingauthor.com/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u>Blog</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://facebook.com/allisonwestauthor"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u>Facebook</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://twitter.com/writeawaybliss"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u>Twitter</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Allison-West/e/B01632XIKM"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , serif;"><u>Amazon Author Central</u></span></span></a></div></div><h3>&nbsp;</h3></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-85884089449882114252016-06-13T05:11:00.000-07:002016-06-13T05:11:29.028-07:00#masturbationmonday - Smart As A Whip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AyKO9-KMfzo/V1sTqKiWb9I/AAAAAAAAATc/tUXP_lmfeNItA6WyNlthV3FUUoQR_AsJACLcB/s1600/Masturbation-Monday-header3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AyKO9-KMfzo/V1sTqKiWb9I/AAAAAAAAATc/tUXP_lmfeNItA6WyNlthV3FUUoQR_AsJACLcB/s400/Masturbation-Monday-header3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I'm so thrilled to be participating in another Masturbation Monday blog hop! I'm going to include yet another masturbation scene that's in my just released novel "Smart As A Whip". It features Kimber Cassidy, a smart, sexy, plus-size young woman who is on her way of following her father's footsteps of solving crimes and exacting justice.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">In this excerpt, she has just broken into the house of Jim Trace, a man who was brutally murdered outside a local BDSM playspace, to see what she can find out about the victim. What she finds... certainly excites her!</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASU/ayivv_Jgq2keLMgBSPQ8Bl7ZmpBYEoluQCKgB/s1600/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASU/ayivv_Jgq2keLMgBSPQ8Bl7ZmpBYEoluQCKgB/s320/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">================</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">The computer beeped, she looked to see the desktop had finally come up and she laid the remainder of the pictures aside. Kimber looked through the browser history and favorites and, aside from some porn sites, there was little to interest her there.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She looked in the documents folder. Inside it was a video folder titled 'Scenes'. She opened it and the folder ended up being full of more than fifty videos. They had titles like 'Amber-flogging' and then a date. All the titles followed a similar nomenclature; first, the activity, then the woman's name and the date. She bit the bullet and opened one up. This one was titled 'Sindy-flogging' and it started with the two people at a St. Andrew's cross. It looked like the one at The Playspace. 'Sindy' was a little curvy, with long brunette hair gathered in a ponytail holder. She was also almost naked, wearing just a pair of panties. Jim was shirtless and wearing a trim pair of blue jeans. They were talking, but Kimber couldn't quite hear the conversation. Jim was attaching restraints to her wrists. After their discussion was over, Sindy turned so she was facing the cross and Jim attached the restraints to the chains that were hanging from the two upper points of the cross. He started by standing right behind her and rubbing her shoulders and then her back. His hands caressed her skin as she relaxed her head on the pillow that was in the crook of the cross. Then he stepped back about two or three paces and did a few practice swings with his flogger to see if he was far back enough.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Then the proper swings began. Kimber was a little surprised; they were slow and light, landing on Sindy's back around the shoulder blade area. He didn't just start whaling on her, he appeared to be warming her up. During this time, the sub got comfortable, readjusting her head on the pillow and jangling her wrists, so the restraints were in a good spot on her wrists. After a few more warm up strikes, Jim walked back up to Sindy and whispered in her ear, she nodded, said something back, and he walked back to where he was. The swings started landing heavier and faint red marks became visible on Sindy's back once he was well into it. Her hands clasped the chains she was restrained to and pulled at them to deal with the pain. Kimber bit her lip as Sindy's moans drifted from the speakers, getting louder as the flogging progressed. After this&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">volley of strikes, Jim stopped again and walked back up to her, his hands caressing where the marks were as he lay against her on the cross. He moved her hair and nibbled along her neck as Sindy scrunched her shoulders and giggled. His hand reached around to her breasts and from her squealed response, Kimber figured he was pinching her nipples. Hard.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber took a deep breath, aware that her own nipples were hardening against the fabric of her bra, as she sat back in the chair. Jim walked back to his previous position and started flogging harder, he also took shots at Sindy's ass, making her squeal in surprise and stand up on her toes. Kimber's own breath was deep and even through her nose, and her hand nestled without a thought between her legs. Her eyes blurred slightly as she pressed her fingers against herself. She pressed her lips together to keep herself quiet, surprising herself with how wet she was. The strikes came harder and faster, Sindy was now yelping loudly on certain hard strokes and her ass was getting the same warm red glow as her back. Jim stopped again and walked up to her with purpose and command, grabbing her hair, pulling it to the side and nibbling Sindy's neck. As Kimber's fingers worked her clit through her sweats, her other hand balled into a fist against the desk. Her breath came up in audible jags, watching Jim biting Sindy's neck and reaching around to clutch her breasts and tug at her nipples. Kimber leaned back more, knowing she would finish soon, and when Jim walked back to his spot and started working his strikes exclusively on Sindy's red striped ass, that did it. Kimber's head at first lolled back over the back of the chair and as she started cumming, she drew her head forward, chin to her chest and moaned loudly, cumming hard against her fingers.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She slumped in the desk chair, taking a few deep breaths to get herself back under control. She stopped the video and then rubbed her eyes. She thought that in addition to the questions she wanted to ask Jeremy, there would definitely be a few more areas she would want to explore. She smiled and looked around the study.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">===============</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Well, that's all for me this week. &nbsp;Be sure to check out all the other wonderful other authors on the Masturbation Monday blog hop at this&nbsp;</span><a href="http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-week-93/" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;" target="_blank">link</a><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">. &nbsp;I'm currently busy at work on Kimber's second as-yet-untitled second adventure, so NOW is the time to get caught up! Buy your copy of "Smart As A Whip today at these online vendors!</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon US :</span><br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a><br /><br style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;" /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon UK :</span><br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F244Fr3w&amp;h=rAQFxPeywAQFZWx7SFhgh9PTueB_4PVLZHfjJ9_gN2Vup5w&amp;enc=AZMCwFP9S2QfcMlW_7UPF4Mx5De8nFOfLbWnC66zKkKdKSuVGTkgke8lST9mwvx1zAezzjMZZ0-kX7PqXBGOVsWXPWtiVKhodgp3U9O-m2ZR4IQ9vU7j28_SWSh6o-J4mt6sP4ditbMCdlW5tSldw_cZ9atTyw8q7lG3ddplf5w24rVGgm9_6yKwnBBLZWnOaVs3N7jVpAB7HRsW1h-IINJs&amp;s=1" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</a><br /><br style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;" /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon CA :</span><br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=oAQGz5pXIAQFXXhE_UG8_Pq77gOFgJLKkuJVyA-cogKjtdQ&amp;enc=AZMdinkRz-zuZIXY33X-5h3mr4El81C7Io1i1N9xuXNI0jNxpDCow1Y-LVs0O39B33R-cQyzMlcZkKQz1btg1YEVaLbcXD2B_pAWJk1cJdK_QttkVG1zxo87W81RyECvfR2WeOwYuOvU3cllTLeX_SfqybeWx5UXt8M34docP7pIuuyfolF0R2br8TKDma4BMZgXhuo5aErmJsNGB-R_v8eE&amp;s=1" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</a><br /><br style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;" /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Barnes and Noble :</span><br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FZY5esh&amp;h=EAQHjOVhwAQE9kEds82LKWnETCxmIhYtv7FSY1SCBO48plA&amp;enc=AZNsm1-hsbmo0T6Xqe8hu37pzaghuK0T3OIyxaGMFQcdrF0z0jFG2hcu5wvW91v9HvLpCE8TWeoRHJi2RMweVFMPqKowW85CejxVIpgXYUgk-7KwJM5jghywcIhy4F-23fBc2-IEppemKXLU-F0PvIa7Wydaip5sYmJ-nKR4xLC3X6fEISrggPBGtSQr8zjthCinVxvIPMV4dkkyh87ZcCjl&amp;s=1" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</a><br /><br style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;" /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">iTunes :</span><br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=4AQGD-nVHAQFDHYb5n3lLTIy0S_Rr6D5RqUm5tXRZhHQDLA&amp;enc=AZOoy8UfAwd7D0V5Vq-d-ObTxWKrFpNcAxnz_Ain29fiw4TTTHaeUkVERfWOQPn8tpj8kn6dzcBQAVzDm-kNTJU22QYBeJnQn__fvuUZp0eM2VudQfeRiLl-i5vUn3bkOGFnc8jlTOY_xEwtFeY9UHQHfEbzn-EsCNjCryuKgeWvNmTwEhlEyoWrXq385-9cYqkgEPhbK8k6i2V0ujGQOGGf&amp;s=1" style="font-family: georgia, &quot;times new roman&quot;, serif;">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s640/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="436" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-80105286796673077902016-06-11T05:10:00.000-07:002016-06-11T05:10:25.690-07:00#SatSpanks - Smart As A Whip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tbqy_EnMSeE/VqlciGQq7iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/eGOBI82Tb9Iq_dCMSKhKnskDfuIfARXDgCKgB/s1600/Saturday%2BSpankings.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tbqy_EnMSeE/VqlciGQq7iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/eGOBI82Tb9Iq_dCMSKhKnskDfuIfARXDgCKgB/s400/Saturday%2BSpankings.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Saturday Spankings : Smart As A Whip</span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">by Judith Anderson</span></h2><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span><br /><h3 style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">If Rebel Wilson and Albert Einstein had a love child, it would be Kimber Cassidy.</span></span></h3><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rv39i90gDRc/V1RmYkKw5hI/AAAAAAAAASU/vuLo0cQuMfkKUutk362ti47p4JgsKU1MACKgB/s1600/reviewcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rv39i90gDRc/V1RmYkKw5hI/AAAAAAAAASU/vuLo0cQuMfkKUutk362ti47p4JgsKU1MACKgB/s640/reviewcover.jpg" width="436" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><div><br />I'm so excited to be participating in Saturday Spankings and presenting my new release, "Smart As A Whip", a murder mystery and the first of a series featuring Kimber Cassidy. I'm busy working on the second of this series as we speak and its coming along so well!</div></span><br /><div><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="color: white; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Coming close to giving up on her cherished dream of following in her father's footsteps, Kimber Cassidy, a plus-size voluptuous beauty in her mid-twenties, jumps at the chance to clear the name of a family friend, Manny. There's been a murder at a local BDSM playspace and Manny's been framed for the crime. In order to keep an innocent man from spending his life in jail, Kimber needs to use the logical and analytical skills taught to her by her father, a detective with the East Alton police, who was killed in the line of duty when she was&nbsp;just sixteen.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: white;">During her investigation into not only the murder, but also the sexually provocative BDSM lifestyle, Kimber will need to use her wits&nbsp;to gather all the facts and figure out who killed a member of The Playspace; a local kinky club. But it won't be easy. During her adventure, she'll come to know things not only about her family, but about also about herself, that will shake her to the core.</span></span></div></span></span><br /><div><div><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: white; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />Things become even more complicated when Kimber meets Jeremy, another club member who is as sexy as he is dominant. As she delves deeper into the world of spanking and bondage, she discovers her deepest dark desires, but will she get lost in them? Only by relying on her&nbsp;father's advice, facing her fears, and realizing who she can trust and who she can't, will she be able to keep a man from suffering for a crime he did not commit.</span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><div style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASU/ayivv_Jgq2keLMgBSPQ8Bl7ZmpBYEoluQCKgB/s1600/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASU/ayivv_Jgq2keLMgBSPQ8Bl7ZmpBYEoluQCKgB/s400/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Last week, I presented a snippet that gave us a first look at Kimber. This week, we'll see the &nbsp;first time that Kimber sets her eyes on Jeremy Chambers, a member of a local BDSM club/playspace where a murder has just occured.</span></div><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">==========</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Daniel had been talking to another man, and Kimber let herself linger a bit on him. Both men had just a few inches on her, so she guessed they were both around 6 feet tall, but the second man wore it better. He had black hair that was swept to the side, well-trimmed beard and mustache, broad shoulders and an expansive chest. Even in clothes, he looked muscular, like there was some kind of power, coiled inside him. His stance was even and he had his hands hung down at his sides, a simple confident pose. He would nod at Daniel’s remarks, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and rich. He would gesture to punctuate what he was saying, his long fingers gracefully caressing his words. <br /><br />“So, you’re Millie’s daughter?” he asked, smiling. He extended his hand. “My name is Jeremy Chambers, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”<br /><br />Kimber shook his hand. His hand was warm and his long fingers wrapped around her hand, shaking it firmly. She couldn’t keep the blush from rising in her cheeks, which just made her blush even more. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”</span></div></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><br /><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><div style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">===========</span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><div style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><h2 style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Buy this exciting, sexy mystery today that has everyone guessing with its provocative twists and turns!</span></h2></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon US :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a><br /><br />Amazon UK :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F244Fr3w&amp;h=rAQFxPeywAQFZWx7SFhgh9PTueB_4PVLZHfjJ9_gN2Vup5w&amp;enc=AZMCwFP9S2QfcMlW_7UPF4Mx5De8nFOfLbWnC66zKkKdKSuVGTkgke8lST9mwvx1zAezzjMZZ0-kX7PqXBGOVsWXPWtiVKhodgp3U9O-m2ZR4IQ9vU7j28_SWSh6o-J4mt6sP4ditbMCdlW5tSldw_cZ9atTyw8q7lG3ddplf5w24rVGgm9_6yKwnBBLZWnOaVs3N7jVpAB7HRsW1h-IINJs&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</a><br /><br />Amazon CA :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=oAQGz5pXIAQFXXhE_UG8_Pq77gOFgJLKkuJVyA-cogKjtdQ&amp;enc=AZMdinkRz-zuZIXY33X-5h3mr4El81C7Io1i1N9xuXNI0jNxpDCow1Y-LVs0O39B33R-cQyzMlcZkKQz1btg1YEVaLbcXD2B_pAWJk1cJdK_QttkVG1zxo87W81RyECvfR2WeOwYuOvU3cllTLeX_SfqybeWx5UXt8M34docP7pIuuyfolF0R2br8TKDma4BMZgXhuo5aErmJsNGB-R_v8eE&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</a><br /><br />Barnes and Noble :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FZY5esh&amp;h=EAQHjOVhwAQE9kEds82LKWnETCxmIhYtv7FSY1SCBO48plA&amp;enc=AZNsm1-hsbmo0T6Xqe8hu37pzaghuK0T3OIyxaGMFQcdrF0z0jFG2hcu5wvW91v9HvLpCE8TWeoRHJi2RMweVFMPqKowW85CejxVIpgXYUgk-7KwJM5jghywcIhy4F-23fBc2-IEppemKXLU-F0PvIa7Wydaip5sYmJ-nKR4xLC3X6fEISrggPBGtSQr8zjthCinVxvIPMV4dkkyh87ZcCjl&amp;s=1">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</a><br /><br />iTunes :<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=4AQGD-nVHAQFDHYb5n3lLTIy0S_Rr6D5RqUm5tXRZhHQDLA&amp;enc=AZOoy8UfAwd7D0V5Vq-d-ObTxWKrFpNcAxnz_Ain29fiw4TTTHaeUkVERfWOQPn8tpj8kn6dzcBQAVzDm-kNTJU22QYBeJnQn__fvuUZp0eM2VudQfeRiLl-i5vUn3bkOGFnc8jlTOY_xEwtFeY9UHQHfEbzn-EsCNjCryuKgeWvNmTwEhlEyoWrXq385-9cYqkgEPhbK8k6i2V0ujGQOGGf&amp;s=1">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a> </span><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: red;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s640/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="438" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><div style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span><br /><div style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"></span></span></div></div><!-- start LinkyTools script --><script src="http://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=268288" type="text/javascript"></script><!-- end LinkyTools script -->Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-145324216161386312016-06-06T18:30:00.001-07:002016-06-06T20:46:12.126-07:00Book Spotlight : Cassie Corralled by PK Corey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPYGI2YNdFw/V1YeK0eydMI/AAAAAAAAATE/T5Si-cqSWiUHbBlxTnrRgCupjUSP-PH2gCLcB/s1600/cassie%2Bcorralled%2Bcover-PK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPYGI2YNdFw/V1YeK0eydMI/AAAAAAAAATE/T5Si-cqSWiUHbBlxTnrRgCupjUSP-PH2gCLcB/s400/cassie%2Bcorralled%2Bcover-PK.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The pain from the belt radiated out, but pleasure danced in its wake.</span></h3><div><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cassie is still living life to the fullest, telling Allie stories about everything from long ago shooting incidents to playing laser tag with the children. Tom keeps an amused, yet watchful eye, on his lovely wife. He tries to be tolerant of Cassie’s fun loving ways, but when she decides to spend the day with people she met through the Internet, without letting him or the girls know of her plans, Tom sees red. Tired of Cassie constantly putting herself in possible danger Tom decides to hire her a driver. Cassie immediately sees this plan for what it really is; Tom wants to hire a bodyguard / watchdog / babysitter for Cassie. That’s something Cassie won’t tolerate and after quickly packing a bag, she’s gone with a roar of the engine and a squeal of the tires. In this case Cassie is determine to have her way – and so is Tom, the final decision may change life on the river forever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h4><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Excerpt :&nbsp;</span></h4><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I couldn’t bring myself to speak so I nodded into his chest. Finally, I whispered, “I know. I see now that it was foolish to go alone and not tell you. But do you understand at all why I did it?”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tom waited a bit and then answered, “I know that you’re too trusting. But since you believed all that they said I understand how you were thinking. It was wrong – and you had to know it. Shutting me out, and not even telling the girls, tells me you knew it was wrong. But I see how you were caught up.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We sat without speaking for another minute and then I asked quietly, “Honey, if you’re going to spank me, please do it tonight.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That was hard to ask. It’s hard to sleep with a burning, throbbing bottom, but for me it’s even worse to try to sleep knowing that it’s coming in the morning. I wasn’t sure what Tom would do, but he sat me on my feet and we headed to the bedroom.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Once there he pulled my gown off and picked up the ivory brush, I couldn’t help shivering. He sat and I was quickly put across his lap. My head and torso rested comfortably on the bed and I grabbed a pillow and hung on. He began with his hand – that hand, it can caress and hold so gently, so lovingly. How can it also create such pain when Tom chooses?&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He didn’t use his hand long and when he started with the brush I wished I’d waited until morning and that the brush had miraculously and mercifully disappeared during the night. Tom started talking right away, usually that’s good. Often he’ll spank in silence, well he’s silent, and then begin talking when he’s about halfway finished. I hoped to heavens we were half way through. Even Tom can’t believe I can hear and understand what he is saying when he is burning me up. The brush was searing into my sit spot as I caught fragments…</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“… dangerous… strangers… Internet people… hiding things… going alone…”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess it was good we had covered this ground because I surely wasn’t following too closely. With two very hard pops, Tom finished and began rubbing. The rubbing was meant to help, but oh my, it hurt too. He finished with a little lotion but as he stood me up I was still holding my bottom trying to get some relief.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; text-indent: 0.25in; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Muttering I told Tom, “You should have married Annie. Then you might have gotten the sweet, well-behaved, lady you’ve always wanted.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tom grabbed me by the shoulders with a look so intense I was afraid he was going to start spanking again. Instead he kissed me so passionately I thought my knees would buckle. He held me close, kissing down my neck and murmuring, “You’re the only woman I’ll ever want.” &nbsp;His kisses, his hands… I was soon convinced he was telling the truth. I slept well that night. I was sore, but I was glowing in many ways and I slept with Tom spooned around my hot bottom and a smile on my face. If only that had been the end of the story.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.25in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blushing Books -<span style="color: black;"></span><a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=search_list&amp;s%5Bsearch%5D=Cassie+Corralled&amp;s%5Btitle%5D=Y&amp;s%5Bmid%5D=y&amp;s%5Bshort_desc%5D=Y&amp;s%5Bfull_desc%5D=Y&amp;s%5Bsku%5D=Y&amp;s%5Bmatch%5D=all&amp;s%5Bebk_isbn%5D=Y&amp;s%5Bpbk_isbn%5D=Y">http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=search_list&amp;s[search]=Cassie+Corralled&amp;s[title]=Y&amp;s[mid]=y&amp;s[short_desc]=Y&amp;s[full_desc]=Y&amp;s[sku]=Y&amp;s[match]=all&amp;s[ebk_isbn]=Y&amp;s[pbk_isbn]=Y</a><span style="color: black;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon –</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cassie-Corralled-Cassies-Space-Book-ebook/dp/B01BQZHI2U/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1455418327&amp;sr=8-1&amp;keywords=Cassie+Corralled">http://www.amazon.com/Cassie-Corralled-Cassies-Space-Book-ebook/dp/B01BQZHI2U/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1455418327&amp;sr=8-1&amp;keywords=Cassie+Corralled</a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon-UK –</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cassie-Corralled-Cassies-Space-Book-ebook/dp/B01BQZHI2U/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1455449254&amp;sr=8-2&amp;keywords=pk+corey">http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cassie-Corralled-Cassies-Space-Book-ebook/dp/B01BQZHI2U/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1455449254&amp;sr=8-2&amp;keywords=pk+corey</a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Barnes and Noble –</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cassie-corralled-pk-corey/1123413032?ean=2940157942649"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cassie-corralled-pk-corey/1123413032?ean=2940157942649</span></a></div><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bio :</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m a small town southern writer, happily married to my best friend for thirty-two years now. We have two grown children and we're learning to love the empty nest. Next year will see the end of a long and satisfying teaching career and I'm anxious to spend more time writing. I didn't grow up with the desire to be a writer, but I did love to daydream. As a child, I spent most of my spare time, and quite a bit of time when I should have been doing schoolwork, either reading or making up stories. I was actual quite young when Cassie wandered into my head and began telling me her story. I've always been drawn to spanking stories, but I need a true love story with it. That's how I see Cassie and Tom - a true love story with spanking thrown in.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Social links :&nbsp;</b></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="mailto:pk.corey@yahoo.com"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">pk.corey@yahoo.com</span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://pk-corey.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://pk-corey.blogspot.com</span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pkcoreyauthor/"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">https://www.facebook.com/pkcoreyauthor/</span></a></div><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-26228825494841757572016-06-05T12:12:00.000-07:002016-06-05T12:13:59.470-07:00Masturbation Monday : Exciting Scene from "Smart As A Whip"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-REjYg_Sl--4/V1R3AeAuOwI/AAAAAAAAASo/xnse-qzF-fUevDb0OFWiLL-gDJRiGd__ACLcB/s1600/Masturbation-Monday-badge-small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-REjYg_Sl--4/V1R3AeAuOwI/AAAAAAAAASo/xnse-qzF-fUevDb0OFWiLL-gDJRiGd__ACLcB/s1600/Masturbation-Monday-badge-small.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y3PFm8AF_sE/V1Rzpm5g0bI/AAAAAAAAASc/fCgXjhOl2ZgfFGROM-5fl6q_Jk9dO_rLgCLcB/s1600/kimberphone1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y3PFm8AF_sE/V1Rzpm5g0bI/AAAAAAAAASc/fCgXjhOl2ZgfFGROM-5fl6q_Jk9dO_rLgCLcB/s400/kimberphone1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I'm so thrilled to be participating in my first Masturbation Monday blog hop! For my first entry, I'm going to include a masturbation scene that's in my just released novel "Smart As A Whip". It features Kimber Cassidy, a smart, sexy, plus-size young woman who is on her way of following her father's footsteps of solving crimes and exacting justice.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">In this scene, she has just finished her first day's investigation of a murder at a local BDSM playspace and texting a certain sexy dominant she met that day named Jeremy Chambers.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">===========</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Great, she thought. Now I'm horny. She tried calling Eric, but it just rang for a bit and then went to voicemail. She knew Derrick was doing a local show with his band tonight. Brad was out of town and Katrina was busy with midterms. She sighed. So, dinner and shower fun time it was.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">After she finished eating and had put the dishes in the drainer, the toll of the day hit her hard. She was also a bundle of excitement. She was actually doing what she had always wanted to do. Tomorrow was Sunday, and she wanted to use the day to figure out what information she needed to gather. Kimber pulled off her shirt and slipped out of her jeans and panties, tossing them in the hamper. She made her way to the bathroom and stood outside the tub, drawing the shower curtain closed and turning on the water. She stuck her hand in the shower to adjust the temperature, making sure it was just warm enough.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Once that was to her satisfaction, she stepped inside and drew the curtain closed again. The water ran down her body, her fingers following the rivulets as they cascaded down her skin, raising goosebumps as they fell. Her nipples hardened as the streams ran past them. She put her face under the shower head, letting the water run over it and then she turned around to get her hair wet, feeling it stick to her back. She ran her fingers through it, rubbing her fingertips against her scalp, a relaxed smile playing on her lips as waves of water washed over her body.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She slipped the shower head out of its holder and stepped to the back of the shower. She directed the water along her neck, feeling it run down her curves and then moved it to her breasts, letting the water beat against her hardened nipples. She took a sharp intake of air, feeling the sting. Heavy lids drooped her eyes as she slid the shower head lower and stepped one foot up on the edge of the tub. She rested her back against the cold tile wall as the water flowed against her lips below, already wet themselves. Her thoughts went to Jeremy, thinking of his smile and his long fingers. She let her body slide down the wall till she was sitting on the back end of the tub. The rivulets of water rushed past her swollen clit as moans escaped her lips. Her head lolled back against the wall and she closed her eyes. As one hand held the shower head steady against her, her other hand slid up her body and clutched her breast, her moans growing louder, reverberating against the tiles. The hand on her breast then slid up the tile wall she was leaning against and grabbed the towel rack, bracing herself as she scrunched her eyes closed, the water massage sending her over the edge. Curling her toes, she panted, dealing with each climax as they crowded each other, turning into sighs, shivers, moans and grunts and leaving her spent and panting. Her hand finally let go of the rack and dropped to her side. She opened her eyes, working a bit to get them to focus.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Once she'd caught her breath, she stood carefully with her legs shaking slightly and completed her shower, lavishing herself with soap, shampoo, and rinsing herself clean. She turned off the water and sighed peacefully, opening up the curtain. If the mirror hadn't been completely fogged over, it would have seen her relaxed, content smile. She giggled at the thought, swiped some of the fog off the mirror and toweled herself off.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber brushed her hair as she walked out of the bathroom and then slipped into bed. She snuggled under the cover and thought about how, as extremely satisfying as her shower time had been, it still made her hungry for the real thing. Mr. Chambers, we will have to meet again sometime, she thought and closed her eyes. Very soon.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">=====================</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Well, that's all for me this week. &nbsp;Be sure to check out all the other wonderful other authors on the Masturbation Monday blog hop at this <a href="http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-week-92/" target="_blank">link</a>. &nbsp;I'm currently busy at work on Kimber's second as-yet-untitled second adventure, so NOW is the time to get caught up! Buy your copy of "Smart As A Whip today at these online vendors!</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: red; color: blue; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Amazon US :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a><br /><br />Amazon UK :<br /><a href="http://amzn.to/244Fr3w">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</a><br /><br />Amazon CA :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=ZAQHKd6a8AQGiYac-tuPpGYI6D622Dun4G0_qUpaSRila1g&amp;enc=AZOuSsn20iDPc3RvKAkpraydvstcin1zOGVz9nHCJZBLYmxvZWa8Mzh_K4yjJnz0c-XctGPMudzL39QEFSrn8Wx2q536pC6R_tych-fsa-UHDiaXrvtqSdiJzDF_4VS7DwYGVoRY1Wz4qNljKFalZlu4O3aegfjMDinQA69fLq80Rpi8IzX5yW5XMYJWBP975fu51-oNaGftfCTzpPpaNdpi&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</a><br /><br />Barnes and Noble :<br /><a href="http://goo.gl/ZY5esh">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</a><br /><br />iTunes :<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=RAQHXamiXAQHJU5T9BZpux5Xg74hWVnAY_O9eaFjYSxZuJA&amp;enc=AZPDmCdWDjBCHWg5XpP3Wj6DppMSJSsD9vQ3WMCPwVKcnut1lJwyTk-SwAizLSTK_DQseIuZefUBka8fK-0-wO92d2yTrg3Yq7sL5BO1apsaInazpzpVXwXkg0evh5a3pfH7w9GJQ_2ZBPHYtnTma7N3Ts-fdS4xqdNCO8Jhbj-vrBg4uLCh9HWTwSppqVL5RoXbFyyGWzU8yq4zvr_bI47E&amp;s=1">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a></span><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s640/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="436" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-59025238609432289882016-06-05T11:33:00.000-07:002016-06-07T20:44:21.969-07:00WIP it up Wednesday : 2nd Kimber Cassidy book - Untitled<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHwD4Ujle8/VqJ9UnEEHHI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ibTINe6n3mcIg-FGKzoRa6E_fJIN9iD7ACKgB/s1600/WIP33.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgHwD4Ujle8/VqJ9UnEEHHI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ibTINe6n3mcIg-FGKzoRa6E_fJIN9iD7ACKgB/s400/WIP33.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I'm so excited to be back participating in the WIP it up Wednesday blog hop, where authors are encouraged to share snippets from their works-in-progress. &nbsp;Today, I'm especially excited to be sharing a snippet from the second of the series in Kimber Cassidy Mysteries. &nbsp;The first exciting adventrue, "Smart As A Whip", was released by Blushing Books and I've been genuinely humbled from all the positive responses I've gotten from it!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rv39i90gDRc/V1RmYkKw5hI/AAAAAAAAASE/ABZdsG8KHoQx1HyRPraDDP2UM3vsVRVPgCLcB/s1600/reviewcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rv39i90gDRc/V1RmYkKw5hI/AAAAAAAAASE/ABZdsG8KHoQx1HyRPraDDP2UM3vsVRVPgCLcB/s400/reviewcover.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber Cassidy is a smart, sexy plus-size young woman in her mid-twenties, who is on her way of following in her father's footsteps of solving crimes and exacting justice. Her father, Douglas Cassidy, taught her everything he could before he was tragically killed in the line of duty when she was just 16.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She's big, beautiful, brash and blunt and she's going to catch the culprit, no matter what it takes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASM/63fOV-F8C1wMcLxw37N_f3LsK1BHTU1QgCLcB/s1600/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kP4MxdZyojg/V1RowK4k7uI/AAAAAAAAASM/63fOV-F8C1wMcLxw37N_f3LsK1BHTU1QgCLcB/s320/13219615_1543000359338542_1075164685_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">In today's snippet from the as-yet-untitled sexy second installment of Kimber's mysteries, Kimber has just finished texting Jeremy Chambers, a sexy dominant male she met in "Smart As A Whip". She's with Bobby Chadwick, one of her best friends, meeting him for coffee at a local coffeehouse. One of the reasons she's there is one of her favorites, Derrick, has been working there and she's hoping for a little extra cream for her coffee.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">=======================</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">&nbsp; &nbsp;<span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber texted ttyl and set her phone down.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "You're blushing." Bobby said.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "I said, you can hush now."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "That's how I know it's him. You almost never blush, but you always blush with him."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "We must have very different definitions of the word 'hush'."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "You can't fool me, honey, he's special."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber picked her phone back up. "I'm gonna look up the definition, I'll text it to you."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "You may have your 'favorites' that you call around when you wanna have your fun time. But Jeremy Chambers, he's special."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Done. You have no excuse now." Kimber put her phone back down.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Bobby shook her head. He sighed and looked at his watch. "Well, I need to get back to work."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Has the paper been lost without me?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Yeah, we had a memorial and everything."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber stuck her tongue at him and he did the same.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; They both stood and he gave her a hug. "Don't do anything I...oh, why do I bother saying that?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "I don't know." Kimber said, smiling and hugging him back.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Bobby left and Kimber turned around and she saw Derrick, motioning with his head to the door leading to the stock room. She bit her lip and almost skipped to the back door. She entered the room and he was on her almost as soon as she was inside. He pressed her up against the storage rack and held her there, kissing her hard. She wrapped his arms around him and balled up her fists, grabbing handfuls of his shirt, holding him close. Their tongues met and played with each other like they had spent years apart. Kimber dropped one hand and lifted her skirt up. She grabbed his hand and guided it down between her legs, letting him feel how wet she was for him. His appreciation was audible as he nibbled his way down her body, and ducking his head underneath her skirt.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; She laid her head back against the storage rack and closed her eyes. He forced her legs apart and swung one leg over his shoulder, licking at her sweetness. She sighed in bliss as she felt his tongue playing with her clit. Grabbing his head, she forced it closer to her wet lips. She tried to lookout for anyone who might come in, but it was hard to keep her eyes focused. All she wanted to do was close them and surrender to the bliss washing over her. She wished she were tied up as he ate her and the idea of that made her moan. A lot of her fantasies has come to involve rope and restraint now and she loved the thought of what it would feel like. He licked her hungrily and she was just about to bear down and cum when she heard a loud voice come near the door. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked around. She didn't immediately see anybody, but she was quickly distracted as he slid his long fingers inside her. She tried to keep quiet, but it proved difficult as he dove his fingers deeper inside her, his tongue working her clit. Whimpers slipped from her lips as her pussy clenched around his fingers, cumming hard and feeling it stream down her legs.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Goddammit, fuck me," she said, gasping. He wasted no time. He stood up and Kimber heard his pants drop to his feet. She grabbed the vertical uprights of the storage rack to the sides of her head and wrapped her legs around him as he slid inside her. He was rock hard and felt amazing, his cock driving deep inside her. Her head dropped on his shoulder as he fucked her hard and fast. She bit his shoulder, muffled cries escaping her lips, cumming again and then feeling him throb inside her as he released his passion. His pace slowed until they were just kissing passionately. She dropped her quivering legs, steadying herself before she let go of the rack. He slid from inside her and bent down to pull up his pants.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "You certainly worked for your tip, didn't you?" Kimber said, giggling.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Derrick smiled as he redid his belt. "I aim to please, baby."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Always a pleasure," she said, kissing him again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Maybe I'll be by after my gig tonight."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; "Sounds like a plan baby, text me."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; He winked at her as he left to go back out to the counter.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">&nbsp; &nbsp; Kimber sighed and rubbed her eyes. She smoothed her skirt down and looked out both ways before she made her way out. The bagels may suck, but the place does have new found benefits, she thought and smiled.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">================================</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Well, that's it for this week. Don't forget to check out the other wonderful authors in this blog hop and if you haven't gotten "Smart As A Whip", NOW is the time to get caught up! I hope to have the second book out by the end of the year, so get your copy of Kimber's first amazing adventure at the following stores!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon US :<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a></span></span></div><div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;"><div style="letter-spacing: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon UK :</span><br /><a href="http://amzn.to/244Fr3w" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</span></a></div><div style="letter-spacing: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon CA :</span><br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=RAQHXamiXAQGkC1Dh5v37fB52xWlkYLt3b9RoBnMmjnNN8A&amp;enc=AZOTIDJeLJt1J8GYSGKZebwzCpVjFisQcptipaL699xzaGDNO1wf2BQ2p4-JTpufS0ZnoyXpyVg4t6fwzR71M5l1fmtKm2vCwrRzV6-wjilEPsPUY-umLAiK6Yp4snjdtpclD4U43IjskmCyGPmCw4X3pf06SJ1V_eRQPa9yfAV5O5QmOOJeJRMDbZJV0bhXTvM7kaRS-7-k1VtgTy6qnwu_&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</span></a></div><div style="letter-spacing: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Barnes and Noble :</span><br /><a href="http://goo.gl/ZY5esh" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</span></a></div><div style="letter-spacing: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">iTunes :</span><br /><span style="background-color: blue; color: white; cursor: pointer; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=nAQFxWe8jAQEl6XwvseBXqkPEdKAvM8stnIiyKHRSD3ELPQ&amp;enc=AZNyMwyy7oiIoTrpCPJtbkUn2i1u5xGR9HR2OOOgTarO_TmG75ss1BlPGVu6ZZXSirB6M2YM5kPGNXcqlVlxgUHR7_KDcwa4YKVmun6m6CSjN8PZwgpbHawtb551Tpq48Tg-R_q2jbuTwuJw3-Q5BWoVCV0pHcqNIgvpS1jmeA9MUwfr7jYIcvrM2tscfLhTv8Fn-erinsiIlRfml_8krgz8&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARs/ABu1d7nfdN8DWp-4zRMLyexuEII7fSnvACKgB/s640/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="438" /></a></div><br /></div></div><!-- start LinkyTools script --><script src="http://www.linkytools.com/thumbnail_linky_include.aspx?id=270015" type="text/javascript"></script><!-- end LinkyTools script -->Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-73128795028798257902016-06-03T19:37:00.000-07:002016-06-03T19:37:03.611-07:00Saturday Spankings : Smart As A Whip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tbqy_EnMSeE/VqlciGQq7iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/eGOBI82Tb9Iq_dCMSKhKnskDfuIfARXDgCKgB/s1600/Saturday%2BSpankings.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tbqy_EnMSeE/VqlciGQq7iI/AAAAAAAAAFE/eGOBI82Tb9Iq_dCMSKhKnskDfuIfARXDgCKgB/s400/Saturday%2BSpankings.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Saturday Spankings : Smart As A Whip</span></h2><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">by Judith Anderson</span></h2><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If Rebel Wilson and Albert Einstein had a love child, it would be Kimber Cassidy.</span></h3><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARo/1P9FVW5RPmgoawdZsgro78XjHDGAK0gkQCLcB/s1600/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FJUAhJdaKZg/V04nYwBg_7I/AAAAAAAAARo/1P9FVW5RPmgoawdZsgro78XjHDGAK0gkQCLcB/s400/SmartAsAWhip.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm so excited to be back participating in Saturday Spankings, especially since I'm presenting my new release, "Smart As A Whip", a murder mystery and the first of a series featuring Kimber Cassidy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Coming close to giving up on her cherished dream of following in her father's footsteps, Kimber Cassidy, a plus-size voluptuous beauty in her mid-twenties, jumps at the chance to clear the name of a family friend, Manny. There's been a murder at a local BDSM playspace and Manny's been framed for the crime. In order to keep an innocent man from spending his life in jail, Kimber needs to use the logical and analytical skills taught to her by her father, a detective with the East Alton police, who was killed in the line of duty when she was&nbsp;just sixteen.</span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">During her investigation into not only the murder, but also the sexually provocative BDSM lifestyle, Kimber will need to use her wits&nbsp;to gather all the facts and figure out who killed a member of The Playspace; a local kinky club. But it won't be easy. During her adventure, she'll come to know things not only about her family, but about also about herself, that will shake her to the core.<br /><br />Things become even more complicated when Kimber meets Jeremy, another club member who is as sexy as he is dominant. As she delves deeper into the world of spanking and bondage, she discovers her deepest dark desires, but will she get lost in them? Only by relying on her&nbsp;father's advice, facing her fears, and realizing who she can trust and who she can't, will she be able to keep a man from suffering for a crime he did not commit.</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ln8-GqtAy6Q/VxPk3bRDnOI/AAAAAAAAANM/xziinRaFhnIXnyKjxqpChJ4-RD9yQ1zIACKgB/s1600/1460590389364.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ln8-GqtAy6Q/VxPk3bRDnOI/AAAAAAAAANM/xziinRaFhnIXnyKjxqpChJ4-RD9yQ1zIACKgB/s400/1460590389364.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In this excerpt from the very opening of the novel, we get our first glimpse of Kimber.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">=========================</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The phone hummed against the nightstand. It moved as it vibrated, signaling a call. She ignored it and grabbed the headboard, pressing herself downward on the bed. Kimber Cassidy drew her chin up to her chest, panting. She was just about there, when he looked up.&nbsp;</span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Are you gonna get that?" She dropped her head against the pillow in frustration, then looked back up and rapped at his head between her legs. "The only thing I'm concerned about now is you eating me out."&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He dodged the hit, chuckled, and continued. Kimber tried to relax, when the phone started vibrating again. <i>Fucking shit</i>, she thought, <i>I call a favorite over and all of a sudden, it's Grand Central Station</i>. She closed her eyes, feeling his tongue play around her wet folds. He slipped his fingers inside her and she gasped, grabbing the headboard again, pushing against his fingers and bearing down. His name was Derrick, one of her favorites, who was especially skilled at this, and right now he was licking her clit as he slid his fingers deep inside her. Deep breaths turned into the loudest moans as she squeezed around his fingers, cumming hard. He started to ease up.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No, no, keep going," she grunted. She grabbed his head and pushed him closer to her, his tongue lapping up her cum as the waves of bliss came again, sending her body into shivers.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Fuck," she said as she relaxed her head against her pillow. Her sweet sighs filled the bedroom as he climbed up the side of her.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Sorry about the interruption, I just didn't know if you—"&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Kimber waved her hand. "Don't worry about it." She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. She loved the dreamy high that would fill her body after a good orgasm. Like being on a cloud. A wet, sweet-smelling, comfy cloud. Derrick kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips, which made her smile.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He bit her bottom lip and she turned her head, giggling.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"That's for batting your hand at me," he said.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Yeah well, that was for stopping." </span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">=============================</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h2><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">An average of 4.5 Stars out of 12 reviews, Get Your Copy today and see what all the sexy smart goodness that Kimber is up to in her first adventure!</span></h2></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazon US :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/466DDz">https://goo.gl/466DDz</a><br /><br />Amazon UK :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F244Fr3w&amp;h=rAQFxPeywAQFZWx7SFhgh9PTueB_4PVLZHfjJ9_gN2Vup5w&amp;enc=AZMCwFP9S2QfcMlW_7UPF4Mx5De8nFOfLbWnC66zKkKdKSuVGTkgke8lST9mwvx1zAezzjMZZ0-kX7PqXBGOVsWXPWtiVKhodgp3U9O-m2ZR4IQ9vU7j28_SWSh6o-J4mt6sP4ditbMCdlW5tSldw_cZ9atTyw8q7lG3ddplf5w24rVGgm9_6yKwnBBLZWnOaVs3N7jVpAB7HRsW1h-IINJs&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/244Fr3w</a><br /><br />Amazon CA :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F25i05TG&amp;h=oAQGz5pXIAQFXXhE_UG8_Pq77gOFgJLKkuJVyA-cogKjtdQ&amp;enc=AZMdinkRz-zuZIXY33X-5h3mr4El81C7Io1i1N9xuXNI0jNxpDCow1Y-LVs0O39B33R-cQyzMlcZkKQz1btg1YEVaLbcXD2B_pAWJk1cJdK_QttkVG1zxo87W81RyECvfR2WeOwYuOvU3cllTLeX_SfqybeWx5UXt8M34docP7pIuuyfolF0R2br8TKDma4BMZgXhuo5aErmJsNGB-R_v8eE&amp;s=1">http://amzn.to/25i05TG</a><br /><br />Barnes and Noble :<br /><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FZY5esh&amp;h=EAQHjOVhwAQE9kEds82LKWnETCxmIhYtv7FSY1SCBO48plA&amp;enc=AZNsm1-hsbmo0T6Xqe8hu37pzaghuK0T3OIyxaGMFQcdrF0z0jFG2hcu5wvW91v9HvLpCE8TWeoRHJi2RMweVFMPqKowW85CejxVIpgXYUgk-7KwJM5jghywcIhy4F-23fBc2-IEppemKXLU-F0PvIa7Wydaip5sYmJ-nKR4xLC3X6fEISrggPBGtSQr8zjthCinVxvIPMV4dkkyh87ZcCjl&amp;s=1">http://goo.gl/ZY5esh</a><br /><br />iTunes :<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FHei1z1&amp;h=4AQGD-nVHAQFDHYb5n3lLTIy0S_Rr6D5RqUm5tXRZhHQDLA&amp;enc=AZOoy8UfAwd7D0V5Vq-d-ObTxWKrFpNcAxnz_Ain29fiw4TTTHaeUkVERfWOQPn8tpj8kn6dzcBQAVzDm-kNTJU22QYBeJnQn__fvuUZp0eM2VudQfeRiLl-i5vUn3bkOGFnc8jlTOY_xEwtFeY9UHQHfEbzn-EsCNjCryuKgeWvNmTwEhlEyoWrXq385-9cYqkgEPhbK8k6i2V0ujGQOGGf&amp;s=1">https://goo.gl/Hei1z1</a><br /><br />Blushing :<br /><a href="http://goo.gl/DzljwD">http://goo.gl/DzljwD</a><br /><br />Kobo :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/8UqJBj">https://goo.gl/8UqJBj</a><br /><br />AllRomance :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/yEUZna">https://goo.gl/yEUZna</a><br /><br />GoodReads :<br /><a href="https://goo.gl/LqR9gf">https://goo.gl/LqR9gf</a><br /><br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Be sure and hop to all the other great authors in the list, you won't be disappointed! Leave me comments! I don't bite! Unless you want me to! &lt;3 xxx &lt;3</span></div><!-- start LinkyTools script --><script src="http://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=268287" type="text/javascript" ></script><!-- end LinkyTools script -->Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-43504061099485400962016-05-31T16:40:00.000-07:002016-05-31T16:40:31.128-07:00Book Spotlight : A Cowboy's Pleasure by Anita Philmar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MMqz4KXOxw0/V04dcGAoxQI/AAAAAAAAARY/AFk0SFKWlCIm0x8GGFiDLrGo6IhfZTB_ACLcB/s1600/A%2BCowboy%2527s%2BPleasure-AP-300x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MMqz4KXOxw0/V04dcGAoxQI/AAAAAAAAARY/AFk0SFKWlCIm0x8GGFiDLrGo6IhfZTB_ACLcB/s400/A%2BCowboy%2527s%2BPleasure-AP-300x450.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Having traveled across the country to escape the war between the states, John Bristol Smith needs a job, any job.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Told of a potential job, he arrives at the interview with high expectation. Nothing, however, in his life prepared him for the nature of this assignment. Tess Van Pelt wants excitement and she means to have it.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Her husband is more than willing to pay for whatever she wants and she wants John.</span></div><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Is this a job or a fantasy?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Excerpt :&nbsp;</span></h3><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Then tell him straight out what you’re after.” Gab carried the tray over to the table in front of the couch where his wife sat. He handed her a glass then walked the other drink to John. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Shouldn’t we, at least, give him a little background on us first?” She queried.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After taking the glass, John stepped to a wingback chair and perched on the edge. “I’m sure whatever type of job you’re offering, I’ll be more than willing to work for you.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Gab chuckled, “You’re right. Most men would, but this requires you not discuss anything that happens within these walls with anyone.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Can you do that, John?” Mrs. Van Pelt sipped her drink and her eyes undress him.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Uncomfortable with her probing inspection, he glanced at her husband. “I have no one to tell. Remember, I’m new in town.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Yes, you are a God sent. Tess, here, is getting a little restless. She’s used to getting what she wants right away. And well, I’m afraid I’ve kept her waiting too long.” Gab turned to his wife and smiled. “I must admit, now that you are here, I believe the plan has more merit than I previously gave it.”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“See, I told you. It’ll be just like old times.” Tess patted the spot next to her on the couch and her husband sat beside her.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sorting through every possible job he could envision, John struggled to come up with the task they wanted to achieve. Mrs. Van Pelt seemed excited by the possibility of him working with them. So perhaps, they liked him and would want him to hire on for a few months, maybe even longer.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Then I guess we better see if John is open to the idea of making love to you,” Gab said and lifted his glass. “So what do you say?”</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><h3 style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Bio :</h3><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Influenced by sci-fi programs, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where erotic moments come to life in a great read.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Naughty or Nice?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Read her books and decide.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Website: <span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="http://www.anitaphilmar.com/">http://www.anitaphilmar.com/</a></u></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blog: <span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/">http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/</a></u></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">FB: <span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="file:///C:/Users/Kevin/Downloads/www.facebook.com/anita.philmar">www.facebook.com/anita.philmar</a></u></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">GR: <span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar">http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar</a></u></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Twitter: <span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar">https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar</a></u></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-2664472411857279112016-05-24T06:48:00.002-07:002016-05-24T06:48:24.591-07:00Do you want me to sign your Kindle e-book?!<h2 align="center">I can sign your e-books through AUTHORGRAPH</h2><div align="center">&nbsp;</div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">There's this wonderful site called authorgraph.com .&nbsp;&nbsp; Just go to their website, go through their easy registration and then look up my name. My books will be listed and you just have to press the 'request autograph' under the book of mine you have and I will sign it with a personalized message!</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"></span>&nbsp;</div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">It's so cool! You have to check it out!</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"></span>&nbsp;</div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">I'm not sure when Blushing will (if ever) have my books out in paperback, so this may be the closest thing to having an autograph, so get yours today!</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"></span>&nbsp;</div><div align="left"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">GO&nbsp;</span><a href="http://www.authorgraph.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">here</span></a><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;">&nbsp;to get started!</span></div><div align="left">&nbsp;</div><div align="left">&nbsp;</div><div align="left">&nbsp;</div><div align="left">﻿</div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-13055234313622630932016-05-17T16:52:00.000-07:002016-05-17T16:52:01.293-07:00Book Spotlight : Taking His Human Bride by Kelly Dawson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmsi47vZ_tc/Vzur1W0Ot4I/AAAAAAAAAQs/aeTpOgPwNTsl0aFbEs0nxwyQV6cID0YuQCLcB/s1600/Taking%2BHis%2BHuman%2BBride%2BCover-KD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bmsi47vZ_tc/Vzur1W0Ot4I/AAAAAAAAAQs/aeTpOgPwNTsl0aFbEs0nxwyQV6cID0YuQCLcB/s400/Taking%2BHis%2BHuman%2BBride%2BCover-KD.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Less than a day after two gruff military officers detain her and escort her to a government facility, Melissa Malone finds herself leaving the planet on a newly-built spacecraft heading for one of the moons of Jupiter. Unknown to most of the world, an asteroid is hurtling toward Earth and, due to her unrivaled computer skills, Melissa is one of a select group of people chosen to rebuild civilization should humanity prove unable to avert the approaching cataclysm.<br /><br />Melissa’s situation rapidly goes from bad to much worse when the ship is attacked and the crew is easily overcome by what she can only assume are aliens. Melissa is taken captive along with everyone else, but while the others are to be sold as slaves, she quickly discovers that her captors have special plans for her. She is promptly stripped naked for an intimate, incredibly humiliating medical examination, and when she fails to do as she is told during the shameful procedure she is punished thoroughly, leaving much more than just her bare bottom burning hot and sore. Once she is deemed suitable, Melissa is given as a bride to a powerful officer named Damian.<br /><br />Though she is horrified by the prospect of being taken as a wife by a man who makes it clear that he will expect her absolute submission and will sternly punish any defiance, Melissa soon learns that Damian has laid claim to her for a reason. He is on a mission, sent by the leaders of his world to infiltrate and bring to justice the band of renegades who took her captive… and he needs her help.<br /><br />Despite her fury at Damian’s willingness to compel her obedience with a firm hand applied to her bare bottom, she cannot help delighting in the way her body responds to his touch, and his skillful, dominant lovemaking brings her to heights of passion she never imagined possible. But when the time comes for her to put her abilities to the test with the fate of the Earth on the line, can she outwit a rogue computer expert and prove that Damian’s trust in her was well placed?<br /><br />Publisher’s Note: Taking His Human Bride is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, medical play, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.</span><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Buy </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><i>Taking His Human Bride</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">here: </span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/myBook.to/TakingHisHumanBride">Amazon</a></span></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><br /><br /><h3>Excerpt :&nbsp;</h3><div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 100%;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Immediately, the man who had stopped her escape moved forward and tore her outer garments from her in a series of swift motions. She fought him crazily as she stood there in her underwear, but he simply held her wrists in one hand and used a small knife to slice her bra and knickers from her. Melissa screamed and clutched her hands in front of her, desperate to preserve her modesty. She tried grabbing at her ruined clothes, but Lucas held them out of reach. And still, Damian didn’t come to her aid. <br /><br /> “Up onto the examination table.” <br /><br /> Melissa was frozen in place, unable to even shake her head in refusal, her whole body trembling. Her legs were like jelly—she couldn’t have obeyed even if she wanted to. <br /><br /> Smack! Lucas’ hand came crashing down against her bare bottom with such force that she was propelled forward towards the table. She was too shocked to react. When she didn’t immediately comply, he smacked her again, even harder. <br /><br /> “Ow!” she yelled. “Stop hitting me! You have no right!” <br /><br /> “I have every right.” He whacked her twice more, once on each cheek, each smack landing with a resounding crack that echoed around the small room. <br /><br /> Forgetting about modesty, her hands flew to her backside in a futile attempt to rub out the sting. Her bottom was burning! <br /><br /> “Get up on the examination table,” the chief medical examiner ordered her again. “If you don’t, I will have Lucas cane you. And then you will get up on it anyway.” <br /><br /> “I… I can’t,” she pleaded, stuttering. “My legs… they won’t work.” She dissolved into hot tears of humiliation and frustration, wiping at them with the back of her hand, but unable to stem the flow of them. <br /><br /> “Here, let me help you,” Lucas said, taking her arm. He led her to the edge of the table, then lifted her effortlessly up onto it, laying her on her back. He lifted her feet up and secured them in stirrups, strapped her wrists in leather cuffs that hung above her head, and buckled a stiff leather belt over her abdomen, holding her down and rendering her completely immobile.</span></div><br /><br /><h3>Bio :&nbsp;</h3><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><br />Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book - preferably one containing spanking! <br /><br />A life-long closet-spanko, Kelly started writing spanking stories on every spare scrap of paper in the house as a child. So when she discovered the internet and spanking romance along with it, she was most excited. But it took her a good decade of devouring these stories before she got up the courage to submit her own. And now, here she is, 5 books later, with a plethora of ideas still to write! <br /><br />She lives literally at the bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four kids, a dog and a cat.</span></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-47674392119416301422016-05-14T17:17:00.000-07:002016-05-17T19:56:24.267-07:00One Week until the release of "Smart As A Whip"!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t23RT7oqngE/VxbU4JdYY-I/AAAAAAAAAOs/cui99xY6K88Y3Cwv6QxY3Qfm7olhxoW4gCLcB/s1600/received_1557825797880727.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t23RT7oqngE/VxbU4JdYY-I/AAAAAAAAAOs/cui99xY6K88Y3Cwv6QxY3Qfm7olhxoW4gCLcB/s400/received_1557825797880727.jpeg" width="276" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><h2 style="text-align: center;">New novel coming soon from Blushing Books!</h2><div><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">There wont be much of a preamble to this blog post, but for a very special reason. &nbsp;Because the novel will be out one week from TODAY, I will be post the entire first chapter today as the excerpt.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">That's right! The ENTIRE first chapter!</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Here's the blurb for all the new people:</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Kimber Cassidy, is a twenty-something, intelligent, beautiful, plus-size, in-your-face and confident redhead who does not suffer fools easily or at all. A family friend, Manny Escalera is a person of interest in a local murder and as evidence against him mounts, Kimber is put under pressure to right the injustice of an innocent man being framed. &nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">She pulls from her experience and advice she got from her detective father, Douglas Cassidy, who was killed when Kimber was 16, during a drug raid.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">The murder of Jim Trace took place outside a local BDSM playspace and as she investigates not only the murder, but also this sexually provocative lifestyle, she has to fight to keep her focus where it should be.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Jeremy Chambers, a longtime member of the club, has his eye on Kimber and starts to&nbsp;pursue&nbsp;her&nbsp;for his own interests. &nbsp;Will Kimber be able to solve the crime? Will she be able to clear an innocent man's name and keep him from spending his life in jail?&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Will she succumb to her deep desires and explore this new lifestyle with Jeremy?&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">What if he is the killer himself? All these questions spin around this gripping and sexy novel along with some earth-shaking secrets that concern Kimber herself, secrets which just may unravel her dreams of being an investigator and solving crimes like her father, before they even start.</span></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KhmdMo7eaTo/Vx_kGKHbM1I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u1cmlRvKNRk8KZvB3P2ggLGANFMnGDX3ACLcB/s1600/1458493036039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KhmdMo7eaTo/Vx_kGKHbM1I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/u1cmlRvKNRk8KZvB3P2ggLGANFMnGDX3ACLcB/s400/1458493036039.jpg" width="308" /></a></div><br /><br />And now, without any further ado, the first chapter of "Smart As A Whip"!<br /><br />================<br /><br /><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: avoid; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">The phone hummed against the nightstand. It moved as it vibrated, signaling a call. She ignored it and grabbed the headboard, pressing herself downward on the bed. Kimber Cassidy drew her chin up to her chest, panting. She was just about there, when he looked up.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Are you gonna get that?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She dropped her head against the pillow in frustration, then looked back up and rapped at his head between her legs. “The only thing I’m concerned about now is you eating me out.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He dodged the hit, chuckled and continued. Kimber tried to relax, when the phone started vibrating again. Fucking shit, she thought, I call a favorite over and all of a sudden, it’s Grand Central Station. She closed her eyes, feeling his tongue play around her wet folds. He slipped his fingers inside her and she gasped, grabbing at the headboard again, pushing against his fingers and bearing down. His name was Derrick, one of her favorites that was especially skilled at this and right now he was licking her clit as he slid his fingers deep inside her. Deep breaths turned into the loudest moans as she squeezed around his fingers, cumming hard. He started to ease up.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">No no, keep going.” She grunted. She grabbed his head and pushed him closer to her, his tongue lapping up her cum as the waves of bliss came again, sending her body into shivers.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Fuck,” she said as she relaxed her head against her pillow. Her sweet sighs filled the bedroom as he climbed up the side of her.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Sorry about the interruption, I just didn’t know if you--”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it.” She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. She loved the dreamy high that would fill her body after a good orgasm. Like being on a cloud. A wet, sweet-smelling comfy cloud. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips, which made her smile.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He bit her bottom lip and she turned her head, giggling.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">That’s for batting your hand at me.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Yeah well, that was for stopping.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">His fingers slid up her curves, past her wide hips and then tracing around her nipples, smiling as they hardened under his touch.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I think I made up for it, baby.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She bit her lip. “You better stop it, or I’ll have you down there again.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He laughed and looked at the clock on the nightstand.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I should probably split anyway, baby, I got practice with my band in a few.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">No worries, thanks for coming over.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He rolled out of bed and slipped into his clothes. “Any time.” He got his shoes and checked his wallet and keys.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Later babe.” he said, kissing her before he left.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Later.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He left through the front door and she heard it click shut. She lived in a duplex with a shared yard, but the older couple who lived in the other unit never used the back, so she pretty much had the yard for herself and her dog, Watson. She stretched large in her bed and yawned. Checking the time, she figured it was good as any time to get up on a Saturday.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She sat up on the edge of the bed and Watson stirred from his doggie bed on the far side of the bedroom and padded his way toward her. She smiled as he rested his head on her leg. Petting him and giving him a kiss on his head, she thought about when she first saw him. Watson was a rescue dog, an older golden retriever. She saw him one afternoon at the shelter a couple of years ago and he was hers ever since. Stretching again, she stood up and made her way into the bathroom.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She looked in the mirror to check herself and nodded her approval. Red hair, long in loose curls. Big blue eyes, a round face, cheeks with dimples. Her ample breasts were a perfect compliment to her wonderfully wide hips. If there were a label, she would be called plus size. But she hated labels, so she just settled for ‘awesome’. Other than the mirror, the bathroom had a sink, a shower, a toilet and a small counter in front of the mirror. What it didn’t have was a scale, not since she threw it away some years back and thought everyone can just shut the fuck up. It also didn’t have her favorite hairbrush. It went missing about two weeks ago and she was having to make do with a cheapie brush she had found in her purse. She brushed through her hair, so the ‘just fucked’ look wasn’t quite so obvious.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber turned, so she could look back and see her right shoulder blade in the mirror. She paused and looked at her tattoo. A valentine heart, colored black except for her dad’s detective badge number in the center. She got it ten years ago when she had just turned sixteen and her mom had to sign off on it. But she didn’t have a problem with it, her mom understood why.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She didn’t have any plans for the day, so she put on minimal makeup, just some eyeliner and lipstick and got dressed. Today had begun promising enough, which was better than last night which culminated with a rather disappointing time at the club. But, a quick call to Derrick had solved all that. She walked into the kitchen to fix some coffee and glanced at the calendar. She wondered if last night was club night for her mom. ‘Club night’ for mom was different though. It wasn’t the type of club Kimber had gone to. It was the type of social club that catered to different types of interests. Interests that involved paddles, rope and whips. And to be honest, that’s as much as she wanted to know involving all that and her mom.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber poured coffee into her favorite mug and took a sip, its hot black goodness wiping away the rest of the grogginess. She walked back to her bedroom and grabbed her phone off the nightstand, checking her messages. One call was from her mom, she skipped that one for now and went to the second message, which turned out to be from Bobby Chadwick. Bobby was older than Kimber and was in the layout department at the local paper where they both worked. When she first started there, he sat down next to her in the lunchroom, struck up a conversation and they’d been friends ever since. It was through their shared interests in local music, good books and men that fueled their friendship over the three years she’d been with the paper.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Kimber? I need your help please, please pick up the phone or call me as soon as you can, I’m in dire need, it’s an emergency.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber sighed. An emergency in Bobbyland could be anything from he and his boyfriend breaking up again to the death one of his favorite fictional characters in a book he was reading. She dialed his number and he picked up on the first ring.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh my god, you took forever!” he said.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">No, if I literally took ‘forever’, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Bobby humphed. “I need your help.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">What’s up?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I locked myself out of my apartment.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Again?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">It was an accident. It’s not like I plan to be a pain in the ass.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I wonder sometimes.” she said.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Just get over here with your picky things please, it’s cold and I didn’t grab my jacket.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Allright, I’ll be there in a few.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Thanks babe!”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber ended the call and grabbed her keys, making sure she had her pick case in her purse. Winter was being stubborn in East Alton and the temps were still cold, so she put on her jacket. Mild weather would peek in every now and then and the springtime rains were starting. East Alton was a moderately sized town in the Midwest, so there was just enough here to keep her entertained without getting too bored. Every once in a great while, she would give a thought about moving to a bigger city, maybe on one of the coasts. She always thought New York City would be a blast. But that took money. So, this is where she stayed. And if she wanted to be honest with herself, there was nowhere else she wanted to go. This was where she grew up and where her dad had made a living, serving the city on the force.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">When she arrived at Bobby’s apartment, she found him at his doorstep, shivering dramatically.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Jesus, it’s not that cold.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">You just don’t think so because you have </span><span lang=""><i>insulation</i></span><span lang="">,” he said, adding fingerquotes around insulation.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She just stood there. “Do you want me to let you in or not?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I’m sorry. Hypothermia always makes me pissy. I can’t help it.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber smirked as she walked past him and knelt at his door. She got her pick set out and put the thin L-shaped torque wrench in the keyhole, while she slid the thin pick inside the top of the hole to set the pins in place. She had done this before numerous times before and as usual, she made quick work of it.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh thank God!” Bobby said, as he pushed past her and into his apartment.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber shook her head. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">You know what I mean, come in. Do you want something to drink?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Yeah, just a coke.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">He went to the kitchen and got a couple of cans of pop and came back to the living room. Kimber had already sat down in one of the over stuffed chairs and turned on the tv to a local channel to check out the news. He offered the can to her.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Thanks.” she said, opening it.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">So, how did you fare last night?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber narrowed her eyes as she took a sip.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">You said you were gonna go to the club last night. How did that go?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh yeah, that was a trip. So I was just sitting at the bar with my whiskey and coke getting low, when this guy in a suit walks up and sits down next to me.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oooo… that sounds promising. Was he a clean cut Neil Patrick Harris type or more of a Joe Manganiello?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Do you want to hear this story or not?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Okay fine, sorry.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">He gets himself a beer and then says to me, ‘Hey, I just noticed you from down the bar and saw your drink going on empty, so I thought I’d offer to buy you one.’ I’m like, fine, go right on ahead and buy me a drink. I told him what I was having and he gets one for me. He asked what I did, and I told him I worked at the paper and then I returned the question.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">He’s a lawyer! A doctor? A model? All of the above?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">None of the above. He goes on and on about how he’s this big executive in this major company, he brokers big deals, yadda yadda. Anyway, I feign interest while he’s blabbing and then he says, ‘So do you want to get out of here?’ I’m like ‘no, but you’re welcome to leave.’”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Bobby gives a tiny cough of disgust. “Why do you always have to be so rude?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber ignored him and continued. “He just looks at me. I say, ‘I’m not impressed.’ He says, ‘Look I just came over here because I thought you could use some attention.’”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">What?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">That’s what I said. Then he comes back with, ‘How much do you weigh anyway, honey?’ I put my drink down and say, ‘Unless I’m sitting on your face, my weight is none of your business.’ I said, ’You are not a big shot executive. Your shoes show excessive wear, your slacks are worn at the knees and your jacket lapels and tie are pilling from age. Plus, your Rolex is a knockoff and your cuticles are a mess. He looks around and I say, ’Your cuticles, on your hand. You’re not a business man, you do manual labor, this old suit is borrowed and from the faint smell of rotten eggs and the excessive hand soap smell you’ve used to try to cover it up, I assume you’re either in road construction or waste disposal and you use the cover of being a hot shot to get women to fuck you.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Aaaand, what did he do?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">He just slinked away,eyes big as saucers, wondering how I read his mind.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Bobby shook his head. “Kimber Cassidy, making friends wherever she goes.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">She shrugged her shoulders.“This is what you get when you dad reads Sherlock Holmes stories at bedtime, instead of fuckin’ fairy tales. I finished my free drink, went home and called Derrick.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Derrick? Oh, Anal boy.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">No, that’s Eric. Derrick’s the pussy licker.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Ahhh, okay. Well, either way…”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">It was a good time,” she said.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Wait, did I interrupt?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Hell no, you didn’t. I finished first, then I called you back.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">That’s good, I guess.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Besides you weren’t the only one, mom called too.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">What did she want?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I don’t know, I haven’t listened to the message yet.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">And this is when Bobby launched into his speech about how important family is and how he lost some of his when he came out and that those are bonds that shouldn’t be broken.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I know, I’ve heard all this before,” Kimber interrupts, “Things have just been funny since dad passed away.” Kimber thought of the nice euphemisms we come up for dying. Dad didn’t just ‘pass away’, he was killed one night, while he was investigating a local drug smuggling ring. One day he was there, helping her with homework and quizzing her with trivia and then…he wasn’t. He didn’t just pass, he was torn away.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Its painful, I know,” Bobby said, “but sometimes you have to face those things. Its like where you are now.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber looked at him, puzzled.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Well, you keep talking about how you want to launch into this detective business and strike out on your own, but,you’re still at the paper. And we both know how happy you are there.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber sighed. She thought the paper job would help, but they kept giving her the cutesy puff pieces when she’d love to take a crack at some investigative journalism.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I’m just saying,” Bobby continued, “if you would quit deliberately shutting doors, maybe some would open for you.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber’s eye was caught by a “Breaking News” graphic on the tv and she turned up the volume. There was video of a gurney with a body covered by a sheet being loaded into the back of an ambulance.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">A reporter’s voice came in on voiceover. “This was the scene late last night. A murder occurred outside a private club in midtown East Alton.” Kimber looked at the caption, indicating the location was around 17th and Windham street. Her mouth dropped open as she realized that was the location of the club her mom went to.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Sources indicate the body of Jim Trace was found outside the private club and it appears he had been stabbed repeatedly. After taking witness statements, police have taken into custody Manny Escelara as a person of interest.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh my god,” said Kimber.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">That name sounds familiar.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">That’s because I introduced you two at one of mom’s Christmas parties two years ago. I’ve just known him as ‘Uncle Manny’.” Kimber shook her head, “That’s impossible. He can’t be their guy.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Baby, you better check your voice mail.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber dug her phone out of her purse and listened to her mom’s message.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Kimber honey? Are you there? It’s your mom, please call me as soon as you can. Something horrible happened at the club last night. Please call back as soon as you can.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">There was a desperateness to the pleading that made her uneasy and unlike Bobby, her mom wasn’t given to histrionics.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">What did she say?” asked Bobby.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">She’s panicked. I’m gonna call her back, can I use your bedroom?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh sure hun, no problem.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber made her way back to the back bedroom, closed the door and dialed her mom’s number.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Hello? Kimber?</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Mom, are you okay?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Oh, thank god, honey, it’s been horrible.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">What happened? I saw the news. Who’s Jim Trace? Why do they think Uncle Manny killed him?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Her mom took a deep breath. “Jim Trace was a member of the club. He was stabbed repeatedly, it was horrible.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">So, Uncle Manny was at the club?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Yes honey, that’s how me and your dad met him. It was through local groups, then when the playspace opened up, we invited him.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber sighed and shook her head. The things you learn.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Okay, so why do they think it’s him?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Manny and this girl in the club have been seeing each other and Jim had been making eyes at her. Apparently, when the police were questioning people at the club, some said there had been an altercation a couple of weeks ago and a threat from Manny for Jim to stay away. Plus they took his shoes at the scene and then took him into custody. I don’t know what that was all about.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber paused to think. It had been raining previously and still cloudy the past couple of days, and she could see how the ground could be damp. If there were footprints found at the scene, they probably took his shoes to check if there were the same type and size and also for testing for soil and any blood evidence. Her shoulders sagged. If they did, the police would have a motive, opportunity and physical evidence. A pretty strong case to pass to the DA.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">But, he’s innocent, there’s no way he could do this.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">I know baby, it’s crazy. But I’m sure the police will figure it out.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber pursed her lips and looked down at the floor. While there was a good chance that might happen, she couldn’t resist the urge to get involved. This could not only be her big chance to prove herself, but also be a big step in helping her follow in her dad’s footsteps.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Are you at your place?”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Yes, I am, but--”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;">“<span lang="">Okay, let me come over. I’ll be there in a few”</span></div><br /><div align="LEFT" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.34in;"><span lang="">Kimber finished the call, sat on the bed and took a deep breath. Here it was, the opportunity she had been waiting for, the moment to make her dad proud of her. She licked her lips and rubbed the sweat off her palms on her pants. She had thought her first investigation would be about something small, like petty theft or some small time surveillance, like on a cheating spouse. But this involved murder and the stakes were high. Just failure would be bad enough, disappointing herself and her mom. But, beyond that, if she couldn’t pull this off, an innocent man, a close family friend, would go to jail.</span></div><br />=========================<br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">In ONE week, "Smart As A Whip", the first novel featuring Kimber Cassidy will be available on Amazon! Mark your calendars for May 25th! You do not want to miss it!&nbsp;</span></h2><br /><br /><br /><br />Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-19608533571534206942016-05-10T17:49:00.000-07:002016-05-10T17:49:57.851-07:00Book Spotlight : Simon Says by Libby Campbell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mcR3ig5HI2Y/VzJ_1nQEBRI/AAAAAAAAAQI/vU7RQCLcAB8qXlUKiQsgD7grttZLaPKSgCLcB/s1600/SimonSays_big-LC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mcR3ig5HI2Y/VzJ_1nQEBRI/AAAAAAAAAQI/vU7RQCLcAB8qXlUKiQsgD7grttZLaPKSgCLcB/s400/SimonSays_big-LC.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;">Sadie is the perfect woman for Simon, if only she can learn to obey his rules.</h3><div><br /></div><div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">When feisty Sadie Donohue meets Simon Jacobson at a New Year’s Eve party, she thinks it’s a chance encounter, but not all is as it seems. Simon is a busy executive who prefers to be the master of his own destiny.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Over dinner the next night his authoritative personality starts to emerge. Always one to question authority, Sadie rebuffs his gentle suggestions for more polite behavior with a lively, sharp wit. Simon is amused but unmoved.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">If Sadie wants to continue seeing him she must accept his rules. Rules that will be reinforced by spankings when she fails to comply. </span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">A strong, independent woman, Sadie struggles with his demands. A tragedy from Simon’s past makes him more determined than ever to make her obey. Their worlds collide.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">This romance, set in cold climes of Canada, is warmed with frequent spankings.</span></div><div align="JUSTIFY" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B6YUM6K/">Amazon</a><span style="color: black;">‖ </span><a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&amp;p=3701">Blushing Books</a> <span style="color: black;">‖</span> <a href="https://www.blogger.com/frequent%20s">Barnes &amp; Noble</a></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><br /><h3>Excerpt :&nbsp;</h3><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /><br />In my apartment he took out his laptop and sat on the sofa. “Get ready for bed. When you’re done, we will talk about your foolishness today.” <br /><br />I took as long as I possibly could, removing my makeup, flossing my teeth, and reorganizing the medicine cabinet. My nails needed attention but I decided that might be pushing it. I dabbed perfume on my wrists and slid the black negligee over my head. The gown had solved the riddle of being dressed but undressed; it covered me but left little to the imagination. I prayed it would distract him to the point of forgetfulness. <br /><br />In the living room Simon was bent over his laptop. He didn’t look when I walked into the room. One of the straight-backed wooden chairs from my dining set had been placed across from the sofa from where he worked. <br /><br />“Sit,” he said. He didn’t have to say where. <br /><br />There were four chairs around my dining room table. Two were comfortable, padded parsons’ chairs. The others were wooden, ladder-back numbers. I only owned the wooden ones because I found them online cheap. There were good in an emergency like three friends for dinner at once but I always put a throw cushion on them for comfort. Simon hadn’t extended me that courtesy. The moment I lowered myself onto the rigid wooden seat, the cold crept through the gauzy fabric of my night dress. I waited for Simon to acknowledge me, say something—anything—but he didn’t. Because the heat had been turned down since Friday, the apartment was cool enough to safely store milk and chicken. The negligee lace grazed my nipples and I realized they were standing at attention. I wrapped my arms around myself, for warmth and modesty. <br /><br />“Put your feet flat on the floor, your hands in your lap, and sit still. I’m almost finished.” His voice pinned me there, like a butterfly in a display case. <br /><br />Almost is an ambiguous stretch of time, depending on how a person spends it. Sitting on that hard wooden chair with a tender bottom made the seconds stretch to hours. I watched Simon’s face and admired his concentration as he typed. That attempt to divert my attention soon grew boring. The seat on the roller coaster grew more uncomfortable. Eventually all my thoughts were about the terrifying descents ahead. I wished we could just push off from the station and get the scary part over with. <br /><br />He stopped typing and reread what he’d written. Satisfied at last, he closed the clamshell and tucked it into his bag. I was sure that the time passed only seemed like minutes to him. My butt ached sitting on that chair but I didn’t shift even a fraction of an inch, not while he was staring at me. He crouched in front of me. <br /><br />“First of all, I want you to know that I care about you very much. In fact I’m falling in love with you.” He kissed the back of my hands. “This—this ritual of discipline—is proof of that love. If I didn’t care about you, about making you and me together a stronger unit, I wouldn’t bother.” <br /><br />He rubbed my hands with his thumbs. “Secondly, you owe a huge debt to my sister.” <br /><br />I opened my mouth to speak, to ask why. He placed a finger on my lips. “It’s not the time for the condemned woman to plead her case.” <br /><br />He caressed a nipple as he straightened to a standing position. “Tracy took strips off me before I went upstairs to wake you and bring you home. She said I had no business dropping a bombshell in your life and leaving you to deal with it alone. I told her you’re a big girl with lots of friends to protect you. Plus it wasn’t like I was offering you anything bad, was it?” <br /><br />I shook my head and said nothing. <br /><br />“Still I’m taking her comments into consideration as I determine your punishment. Tell me honestly—do you think you should be spanked tonight?” <br /><br />I shrugged. <br /><br />“Wise choice to remain silent. Better not risk a wrong answer. However, in my court you are allowed to incriminate yourself. In fact, it’s expected when you have broken my rules. In time you will learn to thank me for the discipline. Until then, let’s deal with what you’re up for now. Let’s accept the fact that you’re going to be spanked. Can you think of the reasons why?” </span><br /><br /><br /><h3>Bio:&nbsp;</h3><div><br /></div><div>Libby Campbell lives on the West Coast with her husband of over twenty-five years. She reads a lot and loves books that feature strong, independent women engaged in hand-to-butt combat with funny, sexy men. <br /><br />Her favorite pastimes are dancing, baking, and hiking with her husband. <br /><br />Libby reads and writes for pure escapism. If you like her books, she hopes you will leave a review – it will help her write the next one.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Social links</b>:</span></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://www.libbycampbell.com/">Libby Campbell website</a></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Libby-Campbell/e/B01B75CENW/">Amazon author page</a> ‖ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Libby-Campbell-849543415164235">Facebook author page</a> ‖ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14925906.Libby_Campbell">GoodReads</a></div><div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></div><div align="CENTER" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 0.17in; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://twitter.com/LibbyC26">Twitter: @LibbyC26</a></div></div><br /></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2097359118418413781.post-69455768917095927912016-05-03T18:32:00.003-07:002016-05-03T18:32:45.116-07:00Book Spotlight : Jailed Little Jade by Allison West<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRhHKdZ-SY/VylOnCWtT_I/AAAAAAAAAPw/q9z4LEOh_zkVYcJOK6FjACAiHJ8mSN7VwCLcB/s1600/JailedLittleJade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRhHKdZ-SY/VylOnCWtT_I/AAAAAAAAAPw/q9z4LEOh_zkVYcJOK6FjACAiHJ8mSN7VwCLcB/s400/JailedLittleJade.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />With a crappy ex-husband and a new lease on life, Jade Brooks moves to Spring Mills for a fresh start. What she gets is far more than she bargained for when Holden Foster shows up at her door.<br /><br />He’s hot, dominating, and harbors a secret of intergalactic proportion.<br /><br />When Jade is invited over to share a meal with Holden, she’s grateful for the company and a new friendship. Her curiosity gets the better of her when she finds a package on his counter and he tells her genuinely to open it up and see what was delivered.<br /><br />The cylinder, a device that travels through time and space, opens a portal and leads Jade and her new sexy friend to a prison colony on his home planet of Adair, where spankings are a regular occurrence and age regression is a requirement for jailed women to rehabilitate within the system.<br /><br />Given no choice but to become a little one, Jade must face a nanny with a firm hand, Holden as her poppa, and a blossoming relationship that is against the rules.<div><br /></div><div><br /> <br /><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.25in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jailed-Little-Jade-Allison-West-ebook/dp/B01CPDZSQA"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u>Amazon</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u><a href="http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&amp;p=3761&amp;welcome=1">Blushing Books</a></u></span></span></div><div><br /></div><h3>Excerpt :&nbsp;</h3><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Trembling, she pushed herself from the cool floor. Glancing briefly in the bathroom mirror, she noticed the glass looked silly like that at a carnival distorting her image. Were they concerned she’d break the mirror and use a large shard as a weapon? She didn’t blame them. If they kept her prisoner, she’d do whatever it took to get away. <br /><br /> Though she wasn’t caged, she still felt contained and Jade wasn’t pleased by it. <br /><br /> “Usually I’d suggest you join the other little ones in the nursery but seeing as how you’ve already had a stressful morning; I’d prefer if you took a nap until you see Poppa at dinner.” <br /><br /> Jade didn’t want to nap. “I’m not tired.” She also wasn’t a child and by the looks of the clothes and the fact she had a nanny, made it seem a bit preposterous. The entire situation was beyond absurd, but it seemed wherever she landed from the wormhole, rehabilitation meant dumbing down women. At least that was how Jade had seen it. She tried to piece together the puzzle that was laid out in front of her, but it made little sense. <br /><br /> “You’ve had a long day, seeing as how you were brought in this morning.” <br /><br /> “Brought in?” Jade asked. <br /><br /> “Yes, by prison transport. I know the ride and acclimation into space can be quite daunting on the body.” <br /><br /> “Space?” Jade repeated confused. Had this woman gone mad?<br /></span><br /><h3>Bio:&nbsp;</h3><div><br /><br />Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Science Fiction, Victorian, Historical, and BDSM Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver. <br /><br />Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog “Spanking Author.” http://spankingauthor.com<br /><br /><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0.25in;"><a href="http://spankingauthor.com/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u>Blog</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;">|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://facebook.com/allisonwestauthor"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u>Facebook</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://twitter.com/writeawaybliss"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u>Twitter</u></span></span></a><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;">&nbsp;|&nbsp;</span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Allison-West/e/B01632XIKM"><span style="color: #db4a37;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, serif;"><u>Amazon Author Central</u></span></span></a></div></div><h3>&nbsp;</h3></div>Judith Andersonhttps://plus.google.com/113549450868481003160noreply@blogger.com0